Harry Potter and the View on Balance
by Flariariia
Summary: A runaway Malfoy, The Boy Who Lived, a brewing war and wait a minute, is that Oriental Magic. Oh my.
1. Prologue

Hopefully everything anyone can possibly want to know before beginning reading alphabetically.

Authoress: Flariariia 

**Categories:** Not categorizing my baby, ewh. Angst may happen, Drama may happen, humour may happen, but hey life happens.

**Disclaimer:** However much I keep on ranting that J.K. Rowling wrote it all wrong and masculine and so on, the truth is undeniable; She is a mastermind to reorganise masses of fantasy into the form of Harry Potter and write a story of teenager Christ. I am a terrible thief for robbing all the characters from being canonfodder and places and history and so on from her (and it seems, Warner Bros. too, though why I would want to credit the movies anything I do not know). I am a sickminded bastard because I did it, and will however continue to be. However all this twisting and manipulating of the future I claim right to be announced mine, and in the end I do believe Harry and Draco will submit to be mine and not her canonfodder putty dolls. …. The meaning of this confused ranting is that anything recognisable from the original fiction is J.K. Rowling's. I hope that is understood.

**Length:** 12 chapters planned so far, but they do not hold anything at all, oh no, I'll keep going on till the end of this universe by this rate. So if you're needing an quick-and-easy, move along.

**Pairings: **Harry/Draco is the only warning I'm giving you. We will see shall we not? But you better expect any canon pairing lifting it's head up. Oh, and if you did not notice yet that means HOMOSEXUAL, GAY, SLASH, or whatever you want to call it relationships (I never said it was only one) so don't come and whine at my door about disgusting stuff. Or come all you want, I like to laugh my head off at people time to time.

**Rating:** Oh dearie me. As high as I'm allowed, for the hell of it, I suppose, which seems to be M. But don't except me to be quick about it.

**Spoilers:** All of the six books published to date.

**Summary:** A runaway Malfoy by the name of dragon, The Boy Who Lived, a brewing war and wait a minute, is that Oriental Magic. Add it up and you know the answer. If you are however bad with the maths, it might be just easier to read it and stop asking me to squeeze a massive plotline into a few sentences.

**Title: Harry Potter and the View on Balance **(N.B. A working title; author holds all right to change it when the real, suitable one is found. )

**WANTED:** Very much alive, no brain-dead, thankyouverymuch, betas with spare time, mind and soul to give away to a very desperate author. Reward is substantial. (which is of course substantial)

**Now you can go on to read the** **prologue. **

**Prologue**

**Where the Trinity meet the Dragon**

_The Leaky Cauldron was almost deserted at noon, when Harry, Ron and Hermione walked in, tired of the night's search. They had got clues of two Horcruxes, but the leads were very faint, and tracking was very tricky, demanding extreme caution to keep it secret from the Dark side._

'_Three butterbeers, Tom,' Hermione called to the barkeeper._

'_Coming right up, miss!' Tom answered swiftly. The three youths sat down at a corner table, sighing as one. The search was definitely getting at them. Tom came along bringing their butterbeers. 'Here you are. Can I get anything else for you?'_

'_A Daily Prophet please, Tom, and that will be all,' Hermione told him. Harry and Ron sipped their butterbeers while Hermione paid the bartender._

'_Anything interesting?' Harry asked as Hermione skimmed the paper._

'_No, only the normal sad stories of killings, paranoid sightings and interviews from useless Government officials.'_

_Harry sighed. 'I wish we could get a stronger lead with these Ho-'_

_Hermione shushed him quickly. 'There's someone coming towards us.'_

'_Looks rather sinister,' Ron muttered, glancing at the figure. The new arrival had a long dark cloak with a hood on disguising everything under it and the cloak sagged as the person limped towards their table._

'_Potter,' a strangely familiar voice came from the shadows of the hood. But still, something was missing from it. Harry gripped his wand, sure that his two friends were quite as startled and ready to blast a few hexes at the cloaked stranger._

'_Easy with the wands now,' a shadow of a very familiar sneer voiced. 'Aren't you able to talk nowadays without a fight?'_

'_Malfoy,' Ron hissed scathingly. 'What are you doing here?'_

'_Hiding. May I sit?' Malfoy sat on a chair without waiting for permission, wincing a little. The three friends changed surprised and suspicious looks, but decided not to attack. Malfoy seemed to be in rather bad shape._

_Harry watched the slumped boy cautiously. What on earth was Malfoy up to now? Last time Harry had seen him was on the grounds of Hogwarts running from the murder scene of Dumbledore._

'_Come on, Malfoy, speak up. What in the name of Merlin are you doing here?' Hermione spoke at last. 'Shouldn't you be stalking around somewhere with your Death Eater friends?' This made Malfoy wince._

'_I left them.'_

'_You left You-Know-Who? You're so much more stupid than I thought,' Ron stared, then adding, a little awed, 'though I never believed you would want to, and then get the courage to do it.'_

'_Drop it, Weasley. I don't need your amazingly intelligent comments.'_

'_Then what do you need?' Harry finally opened his mouth._

'_I thought…I thought that maybe you could hide me. I know we… aren't the best of friends, and if I had any choice, I would not be here at the moment.'_

_Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at him. Draco Malfoy asking for shelter, from them? Ron scoffed._

'_Do you really think we would help you after everything you've done, Malfoy? Planning the attack to Hogwarts, calling Hermione things, torturing Harr-'_

'_Ron, don't,' Harry said quietly. Ron turned and stared at him._

'_Harry! What the bloody hell are you-'_

'_Harry's got a point, Ron,' Hermione said quietly, causing Ron to tip over his mug as he twisted to glare at her. 'If Malfoy really is in trouble, we'll have to help him.' Malfoy clearly relaxed and Ron's jaw dropped. 'But that's only if this is not some kind of plot. Can we trust you, Malfoy; do you have any proof?'_

'_I don't know. And I must say, if the Dark Lord had put me on this mission, he would have given me something really convincing.' He slipped a pale hand from under his cloak and swept unseen hair from his eyes. Hermione gasped. _

'_Malfoy, what's with your hand?' Malfoy quickly drew his thin hand under the cloak. 'Malfoy, take your cloak off.'_

'_No.'_

_Hermione muttered a quick spell and the cloak flew off the crouching boy. The three could only stare at him. Long blonde hair, once so sleek and pruned now hung limply in dirty tangles. His eyes stared starved deep from his skull and his skin was rather loose over his elegant facial bones. He hadn't evidently been eating very much lately. Hermione turned to Harry._

'_I think we should contact Lupin.'_

I sat quietly in the room I had been given. I had no idea where I was. They didn't trust me at all, taking my wand away and checking me for anything dangerous. I had slept for what they told me was a few days; the running had really exhausted me. The room had a high ceiling and it was rather gloomy, though it must have been much more gloomier before, as the covers of the chairs and the hangings of four-poster evidently had been changed into flowered ones, rather tastelessly I might add. But I was still too tired and famished to complain.

I sighed and tried to run my fingers through my shoulder-length hair like I was used to, forgetting that my hair was so filthy and disgustingly tangled it would soon walk away by itself. I cursed and rose looking for a comb or a brush. I located a silver one that even I appreciated from a dusty old cabinet, and I started untangling my hair. I hoped I would soon have the chance to shower.

The door creaked, making me jump and turn. I was always quite off my guard when pruning myself, a forever subject to scold myself on. Potter moved in with Granger on his tail. They had made a wise choice and left the idiot Weasley out of this. Potter moved to an armchair and sat down with a concentrated frown. Granger decided to stay close to the door and moved a chair with an elegant, silent flick of her wand. She had always been disgustingly clever for a Mudblood.

"Malfoy, what on earth are you doing here?" I stared into the curtains stubbornly. "Come on, you know you have to tell us sometime." Potter paused. "Would it be easier to talk to someone else than us? Lupin is downstairs, I could call him." I scoffed into the air. Potter was really a little too annoying with all that caring. I can't understand why he bothered; I almost killed Dumbledore, should have killed him on that last night at Hogwarts.

"Harry, the soft talk clearly doesn't work with Malfoy." Granger was having the same thoughts as I was. "Spit it out, Malfoy, or I'll whip up some Veritaserum or something even nastier to make you spill it. It's always easier to do it willingly."

"Have I not already told you that I left the Death Eaters? I don't think you need to know anything else." Well, of course they would love to hear the story. But I really wasn't ready to own my uncertainties and doubts to them. I was here because I couldn't run alone anymore. They would get bored with me in time and let me go again. I just needed this rest.

"We need to know," Potter said in a quiet voice. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I left one day from my father's manor, and never came back. I hid around Britain, mainly in the woodlands and other places, travelled by broom until they caught up with me and I had to do a complicated Apparition escapade. I walked into the Leaky Cauldron, spotted the three of you, and here I am."

"Not enough. Where are all the answers to the 'why parts'?"

"They are my business and my business only. You can believe anything you like, a sudden attack of right-mindedness, falling out with the others, idiot second thoughts. Just take your nose out of it and get me a chance to shower thank you very much and good night."

Potter rose and silenced a snappy comment Granger was about to deliver. "Tell us when you want to enlighten us on your motives, will you? There," he waved his wand at a wall and a door appeared, "you'll find anything you need. We'll see sooner or later again." And with that Potter walked out, Granger throwing me a dark glance before closing the door. I smirked at Potter's development. He was getting much cooler than I ever would have imagined.

I shed my clothes and retired to the bathroom to clean myself up.

The first real chapter to be released in a few days.


	2. Chapter 1 Cooped up

**Cooped up**

**Where the Dragon is bored and answers are hunted for**

Draco Malfoy had been cooped up in the dingy room in some dingy hide-out of the Order for too long. He had slept four days straight on when he had been brought in, after a quick five minute check on if the place was really safe (though that would not have been trustworthy on any scale, as Draco was near dead, but his nerves needed the assurance), then eaten anything brought in front of him, confronted Potter and Granger and after bathing, slept another two days, eaten and then finally awoken on the seventh day feeling better for the first time since…Salazar knows when. He could not remember a time when he did not feel so hunted and haunted that it poisoned the very essence of Draco.

Draco had the seventh day to rest. From there on there were people. Of course there were. Of course they wanted answers. Of course they would get pissed when they would not get answers.

The Weasel was the easiest. The raving idiot would give up at the first sight of Draco and start ranting at him, threatening him and so on, to get Draco to own up the evil plots that he had in store. The Weasel was soon prevented from coming into Draco's room, after almost attacking him.

Granger wasn't too difficult. She would try kindness, sense, basically anything that involved a lot of talk, but no, Draco was not going to tell anything to the Mudblood. He could stare at the dreary walls (seriously, had no-one even entertained thought of tapestries or paint or anything that would make walls look something else than wet cardboard smeared with indescribable dirt?) bored, until she would finally give one last frustrated sigh and leave.

Mad-Eye Moody was terrifying, growling at him and mumbling about punishments and ferrets and gosh, Draco hoped Moody would be kept away from him. The grizzly man had luckily been there only two times; apparently he was a very busy Order member. Arthur Weasley tried too, soon driven out by sneers. Draco truly found him most plebeian.

Lupin was a hard nut to crack, but luckily the man was rather busy with the Order and all the werewolf business probably on top of that too. There was however a suspicious cheerfulness in the normally gloomy eyes, and Draco had a painful flashback of certain blue, twinkling eyes that… No those thoughts were not to be wandered into. Lupin too finally believed that Draco was not spilling anything.

Potter was the hardest one. He always was. The problem with him was that he never worked in the way he was supposed to, not when things really mattered. Oh, he would grab the bait and shout match with Draco at Hogwarts before DADA. But when Draco really craved for one, Potter found other ways of annoying him. Standing by the door, silently staring, those green eyes of him shimmering like glowing embers, waiting to burst into flames. Draco, wanting to keep a steady front, didn't try to feed the flames but when non-verbal prodding had no effect after several days and several hours of glowing green embers, his Malfoy pride snapped.

"Alright, Potter. Spit it out."

"What?"

"Still the slugbrain, I see. The poison you're digesting and for some Gryffindor reason saving me from. I'm a big boy, I think I can handle it."

"There's no poison."

"Then what the bleeding hell are you standing there and glaring at?"

"That would be you Malfoy."

Gripping his nose between two fingers, Draco counted to ten. He would gain nothing from jumping at the git's throat. Except… Pure, deep satisfaction and deep pleasure for hurting him. Yes that was a good enough reason. Draco opened his eyes ready to pounce at the… annoying idiot that didn't even have the manners to stay in place. The Boy Who Lived to Annoy Draco Malfoy was not leaning to the wall and couldn't be seen in the room.

Draco flopped on the bed. He could handle this. He could handle being prodded and questioned. He could handle the Boy that Bleeding Lived. He could handle losing his life. He could handle everything; he was a Malfoy. A Malfoy that had betrayed everything, and lost all footing, and there was no floor, no ceiling, no walls, no sky, no ground and everything was crumbling, falling nothing to hold on, and it was all his choice, all his choice…

"Breathe, Draco. Breathe." Long shuddering breath. Another. Yes, there was still air. There was a hand in his hair. Soothing, like Mother's –

Wait a moment. Mother was not here. Jumping up Draco turned and saw the Weasley cow sitting calmly at the bedside. "Great, this is the last weapon the Order has? Molly Weasley coming to coax everything out of the Malfoy?! Get the hell out of here, bitch!" But she just sat there taking it and staring at him with those warm eyes of hers. Draco was losing all control of himself and he hated it. The only thing he had control of was himself and if he lost that, he lost everything.

When Draco finally had to draw breath she finally spoke.

"Draco…"

"Don't call me that," gasped Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy then. I must talk to you now. You do understand that you cannot come and find shelter from the Order without a price. We have too much in play for full forgiveness, even though we know that you spared Dumbledore's life," Draco shuddered at the name, cradling himself, "you are still marked as a Death Eater or at least one of our enemies. We want to know if we are sheltering a spy or not. We have given you already a week and a half for free. You have not given us any explanation willingly, and now I deliver to you the last warning. If you will not tell us anything, we are forced to put you under Veritaserum."

Draco thought for a while and gave in. Molly Weasley, it seemed, was a last resort for the Order. Draco had been fooling himself with the thought that he might have stayed like this forever sleeping and escaping. It was probably not how this world worked. He would have to face it.

"I do not know how you think you can trust me without Veritaserum. I can only tell you that I have left the Dark side and am now running. Why? is the question you want answers to. Many reasons, of course, only one reason is not enough for a decision this size. First, cowardice; I was not strong enough for what I was required of, I found soon enough, I think Potter can prove me right on that matter. Second, self doubt, I am questioning myself rather extensively, and I do not know if I want what my father wants of me. Third, madness, every step of the way. Especially when I decided to come to the Order; if you didn't notice, I was delirious with fatigue, hunger, stress… That is coming more evident every moment," and with a bitter laugh he broke off.

The small speech seemed strangely practised in his ears. Maybe he had been practising it all these hours in this room. Always having a back-up plan somewhere in his mind. He felt so lost and alone and very, very broken. The Weasley woman regarded him with moist eyes and left. Apparently he had earned peace for a while. He did not know for how long however. This was the second time Veritaserum had been mentioned and the third time would be the one he would swallow it. Draco had no illusions about the fact that the Order had to find the truth and there was no other way.

Draco felt like collapsing on the bed and sleeping until the war was safely over, which probably meant forever - a very amiable thought. But he knew the nightmares would be coming and he chose to go and try and drown himself in the bathtub Potter had supplied him.


	3. Chapter 2 Knowing your surroundings

**Questioning**

**Where the Dragon settles in and is confronted by the One**

The next day was tedious. No one came to annoy him, but that meant he could not think up witty remarks and evil answers. Not that he would have spoken them out loud, but at least it proved he could still think what he wanted and be his own whole self. When he was alone, his mind seemed to separate into a mass of arguing voices, uncontrollable fears, shadows, memories; a boiling cataclysm of nightmares. Draco felt like he was losing himself.

"Not a surprise for someone who has run away from everything he was supposed to be," he muttered his thoughts out aloud. An empty, or what he had thought to be an empty painting hanging on the wall giggled. Draco threw a surprised glare at it, but it seemed that the occupant was safely out of sight. Figures, he thought, they wouldn't have him unwatched, even if he had supposedly owned up to them. Draco rose from the bed and stared around the room. Perhaps it was time for a thorough inspection.

The hangings, chair covers and other textiles in the room were still the ghastly flowered cloth. The walls were still mouldy cardboard, probably had been wood some time, but too destroyed to be recognised as such. The floor, however, was strong oak. Draco liked oak floors. They were warmer than the forever marble of the Malfoy Manor. The doors were elegant enough, the handles polished silver, it seemed. Draco wondered where on earth you could have mouldy walls and silver doorknobs.

The four-poster he was sleeping in was magical antique, the woodcarvings were moving quietly, animating the deer and wolves and other creatures captured into the wood. They were supposed to picture some kind of paradise, he supposed, as one wolf was quite happily licking a rabbit clean, before gambolling away to race a deer. Next to the bed was a small nightstand with a fairy nightlight that probably twinkled and glowed soothingly if one woke up at night; Draco had had a similar one when he was small.

A desk was pushed against one wall; it had parchment and a quill on it. Draco sat on the chair before it and slid his hand on the wood. It was indeed expensive ebony, finely polished and carved. The four-poster was mahogany, but that was probably because of the extensive magical uses of the wood; it had some of the best properties for animating furniture, being hard enough to not wear down and soft enough to move smoothly. Ebony however was dense wood and it's fine texture made it beautiful to work with, magic embedding itself into it firmly. It held its magical properties for centuries. What such a luxury item was doing in an Order hideout, Draco would have liked to know very much.

The engravings were elegant, showing rampant greyhounds, stars and a sword amidst complicated patterns, the design revealing it to be traditional craftsmanship. Malfoy Manor held few pieces of the Guild too. Draco was caught by the words engraved. _Toujours Pur_. He uttered the words aloud and at once the engravings flashed silver and moved so that they formed a crest on the middle of the table. The Black family crest. Draco Malfoy was in Grimmauld Place, home of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

Draco smirked. He was trapped in a house where his blood had power. This could be useful. Pity that Kreacher had been removed to Hogwarts. He had caught the mad house-elf sniffing around the Slytherin dorms once, searching for something. The slave had however been quick to vanish out of sight after a respectful bow and muttered curses about "the dirty Potter boy". Kreacher was a house-elf to Draco's liking. The very opposite of that cursed traitor Dobby.

Draco picked up the quill and doodled on to the parchment. It didn't seem to be otherwise magical than being Ever-Filled, but Draco filed it into his memory as something worth investigating. The silver filaments on it spoke of higher magical craftsmanship, and Draco knew the signs from seventeen years of investigating magical artefacts of the Manor.

Turning his attention to the drawers of the desk, he didn't find anything too interesting. The top drawer held parchment; Draco suspected the drawer was Ever-Filled too; the second very normal quills that were black-feathered and had a small Black crest on each of them, Draco found them very suiting, but quite useless compared to the first one; the third was quite empty as were the rest of drawers on the left. On the right side of the desk was a bookcase closed behind a glass door; familiar children's books were shelved neatly on it.

Draco lifted them out and smiled at the cover of the topmost one. _How the Nundu got his Spots and other tales of Magical Creatures _by Suleiman B. Daouad was a favourite of his, his own copy now lying forgotten and worn in the library of the Manor. This copy had beautiful leather binding, on which unicorns pranced and kneazles stalked. It was a work of art. He carefully put the pile of books on the nightstand; he would read through them when he had time, which he had plenty. The Order seemed to be in no hurry to get rid of him.

Turning back to the small cupboard of the desk he ran his fingers over the walls of the space. He could not find any obvious keyholes, trapdoors or other secret safes. He bent over the surface of the desk again and thoughtfully ran his finger over the still sparkling crest. One of the greyhounds snapped at his fingers and he drew his fingers away from it. The greyhound followed his fingers and he laughed at its antics. A thought struck him, and he ordered the dog to sit. Dutifully it sat down and looked up at him. "Down," made it lie down, "roll" had the dog twirling around the desk in passion. "Good boy," Draco complemented it and the dog wagged his tail pleased.

The other hound was still in its position of standing against the crest. Draco stroked it like he had the other, and it shook itself and wandered off to a corner, sniffing at something. "Come here boy," Draco tried, but the hound just looked at him and continued its inspection of the corner. The other dog instead came with speed, rolling onto its back in submission. The painting on the wall laughed out loud this time and Draco turned quickly managing to get a glimpse of a little girl skipping away from the picture partly hidden by the bed.

He continued trying to convince the other dog to cooperate with him, keeping an eye on the painting. The painted girl proved to be rather curious and after a while she poked her golden-locked head from behind the frame and spied on his attempts. In the end she gave an exasperated sigh and cleared her throat importantly, "The hound is a _she_, fool." Draco arched his brow at her unconvinced, but as soon as he called after the bitch by "girl", it obligingly scampered along to join her fellow dog. "The boy is called Snuffles and the girl Toffles."

"Why would anyone name them with ridiculous names like that?" Draco scoffed.

"Well, excuse me for being eleven when I received the desk!" The painting retorted at him.

"Is there anything else you would like to inform me about the desk?"

"Why should I tell secrets to anyone who hasn't even introduced himself to me?"

Draco cursed paintings with too strict senses of manners and rose to walk up to the painting. It however occurred to him that if the painting did not know who he was, she was probably not on orders to spy on him, which in itself was pleasing. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, at your service. My mother's maiden-name is Black."

The girl in the painting performed an etiquette-trained curtsy and introduced herself as Cassiopeia Black. "Glad to meet a member of family."

"Likewise," Draco replied dryly. "Any chance of tips on the desk then?"

"I don't know if you're worth that yet," she chirped happily and dragged a divan into the picture with surprising ease. She laid herself on it with grace and yawned behind a sleek hand, "but now that we are introduced I can sleep at last. Thank goodness for that, I'm so tired." Her logic seemed strange to Draco, but he had found during his years in the Manor that paintings were often half-mad due to ageing charms and simple boredom.

He continued his study of the room, leaving the desk until Cassiopeia would tell him more. There were two cabinets in the room, otherwise it was empty, missing items indicated by lighter patches on the walls where mirrors and paintings had been removed. The cabinets matched the desk with their ebony sheen and had a silver star engraved on the top of them. The first cabinet was empty, except for the silver brush that had a comb matching it.

The other had a battalion of hangers waiting to hold clothes in order. The cabinets were wardrobes, enchanted ones too if Draco wasn't mistaken. He had one of these himself at the Manor; it held immense amounts of clothes in and had strong wards against moths, beetles, mould and anything that could be considered a threat against clothes. He missed his wardrobe, its mirror was extraordinarily qualified in helping choose clothes for any occasion, and the wardrobe was very competent in keeping his vast stock of clothes in order and pristine condition. Draco wouldn't trust his raw silk evening robes to a house-elf for all the gold in the world.

"Cassiopeia, are you awake?" Draco asked the portrait.

"No."

"Aren't there any mirrors in the room?"

"Used to be, but they took them away, because they were rude. They took everything that was rude away."

"Rude as in…?"

"Calling half of them blood traitors and the rest Mudbloods. They were rather inaccurate too, but I think it was just the attitude. But I miss the dressing table. It was very friendly and it adored my locks. Don't you think they are pretty?"

Draco thought she had too many charms in her corkscrew curls, but he was practised in the art of manners and pleasantries and praised her hair. She was immediately pleased and started prattling away about beauty care and jewellery and Rowena-curse-whatever and Draco soon tuned it out with the expertise of tuning Pansy out for the last ten years. After five minutes of worship of beauty merchandise Draco decided to cut in.

"So you used to live in this room?"

"Yes it was my room until just five years ago when I died."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Oh, it was about time, I was getting terribly ugly. Now I'm the only picture of me left too; Sirius burned all the photos of me with the others, which is lovely. I was the prettiest girl in Hogwarts. This portrait was made when I was fifteen."

"So who owns the house at the moment? Sirius Black died last year, but Aunt Bellatrix didn't get the rights…"

"I bet she was raving; after all the work she did she didn't get her family house back," commented someone from behind.

Draco turned to see the intruder, cursing himself for not noticing anyone coming in.

"Hello, Harry!" Cassiopeia twittered eagerly.

"Hi, Cassie."

"Potter, don't do that!" Draco spluttered, shocked.

"What?"

"Sneak into my room without even a knock. I know you never learned manners, but this outrageous."

"Last time I looked it was _my_ room that I had graciously lent for your use."

"_You_ own Grimmauld Place?"

"Sirius was my godfather, after all."

"Well, that is one mystery answered. Everyone was rather disappointed; Headquarters of the Order would've been such a prize."

"Feel like chatting, then?"

Draco realized he was talking without thinking; the babbling portrait must have affected him. Bother. "If you found that useful information, you must be devoid of any news of the Dark Lord."

"Actually, we are, as we lost our _trustworthy_ contact in the inner circle. We were thinking you might want to give a helping hand in return of safety."

"Trustworthy contact? As in Snape? Unlucky that the Unbreakable Vow Mother made with him screwed everything up. The Dark Lord was furious after he blew his cover just to protect _me_." Draco's tone was bitter and his eyes started to feel hot and moist. _Don't you dare cry in front of Potter._

"So he sent you to take up his place?"

"Are you Weasley? I didn't even manage to get the Mark, faltering at the deciding point." Draco spat out, thrusting his pure white left arm to be inspected.

"You don't need to be a spy to carry the Mark."

"I'd need the trust of him to carry a mission that risky! Snape was doing it due to his expert Occlumency skills!"

"But you don't need to fool Dumbledore, do you? And don't try and say you don't know Occlumency, I know Bellatrix taught you."

"Even if I were a Occlumens, do you really believe he would've risked a Malfoy in such a uncertain plan?"

"Voldemort never really cared who was who, did he?"

Draco was getting more and more frustrated. He was actually talking to Potter without hexes and insults, and he was finding that it was rather useless to talk to the idiot without them. The Boy Who Lived Stubbornly was insulting him, provoking him. How was he supposed to stay calm?

"I know there is no chance you could trust me Potter! What I don't get is why you don't feed me Veritaserum and get it over with?"

"The problem is that we are short of Veritaserum. Slughorn's doing some business for the Order and Hermione is preparing a massive batch right this moment, but it is complicated and…"

"Now who is spilling it? And you're actually trusting _Granger_ to do Veritaserum to the Order? She hasn't even done her N.E.W.T.'s! I won't touch anything she has made!"

"I'll tell you when you have a choice about that. And we don't have anyone else to spare, and Hermione happens to be brilliant - if you haven't noticed she's had higher scores than you on every subject!"

" Except Potions. We tied for first place," Draco muttered indignantly.

"You got all the ideas for your plots from her!"

"Except the Vanishing Cabinets! Wait a minute, how did you know? I haven't…!"

Draco's question was interrupted by a loud voices shouting. Over all of it was a shriek yelling out something about purebloods and thieves. Potter turned immediately to the door with a confused look on his face, "I told the door specifically not to allow anyone in! What…?"

A small, lean Asian woman was standing in the doorway. She wore some kind of Oriental silk robes, with amazingly lifelike embroidered Chinese Fireballs and for a second all Draco's brain could do was slobber after the woman's tailor. If it hadn't been for the screaming from outside the room, there would have been a very surprised silence. At least on the part of the boys. The woman seemed entirely composed, surveying the two of them with sharp eyes. When footsteps where heard hammering up the stairs, she snapped her bony fingers and the door closed.


	4. Chapter 3 Enter the Sensei

Yay! This bitch of a chapter took a long time to write, but here it is! And many big thanks to Noora, who patiently ruined her mind and body checking all the chapters so far! They have been reposted, and all things you want to complain about are to be addressed to me, as they are the parts I stubbornly refused to change. You will be happy to know, all the commas are now in their right places now. Noora is a heroine.

I', however, still accepting all offers for beta'ing! So if you have spare time, mind and soul, tell me and I'll put it all to good use. The more the merrier!

(Oh and I'm still missing that one review! sniff! I hope it'll come with this chapter, because I reached all the other goals!)

* * *

**3. Enter the Sensei**

**Where a surprising Teacher appears and things have to be rearranged**

"Good evening, Hally Potter. I am honoured by our meeting," the woman said and bowed slightly. Potter, of course, without any manners had forgotten his tongue under his feet, and Draco had to poke him.

"Ah…urm…Good evening, Mrs…Miss…?" Potter was a hopeless case.

"The honour is ours, madam. I am Draco Malfoy, at your service," Draco took over with his elegant bow, which Potter had the wits to follow. "This is an unexpected pleasure, as Mr. Potter's surprise implies."

"I apologize for my intluding into this gland house, may fortune smile upon it. I have come to fulfil an agleement between the late Dumbledore-san and myself. My name is Kikuta Kaede," came the reply in rapid English. There was a bow again, which was immediately returned. They were saved from further conversation by a blast at the door, which opened. Heavily breathing Order members poured into the room, wands at the ready.

Potter shouted at them to calm them down as a rain of Stunning Spells hit the Asian, who seemed only mildly interested, standing as upright and stiff as before, as though she was sucking the Charms in. The Order members lowered their wands, partly due to Harry's furious commanding and partly due to the obvious futility of their attack. Potter let out a breath, glanced murderously at the now shuffling members and turned to Kikuta Kaede. "I am so sorry, Mrs. Kaede, my friends have grown used to the war and tend to attack before questioning."

The lady only bowed politely to this, causing Potter to bow back. Draco scoffed at his attempts. "Potter, I think it would be better to invite _Kikuta-san_ to continue this discussion in a more suitable place and leave me to my peace," and with that Draco bowed to the stranger and stalked to his bed, sitting on it with his back towards the door. Potter, embarrassed and stammering, followed Draco's suggestion, inviting Kikuta-san to the kitchen downstairs. Why they did not use a drawing room or other respectable room, he did not want to know.

"Thank you, Potter-san, I would gladly come to the kitchen. I wonder, however, if it would be possible for Malfoy-san to come with us." This was even more unexpected than her appearance. Draco turned and saw the Order in a state of full and utter disbelief, half of them having their jaws making acquaintanceship with their ribs. Potter stuttered something, trying to object, but was cut off by a crisp "I insist."

So Draco found himself accompanying half of the Order to the kitchen of Grimmauld Place 12. A grim guard of Order members swept him from his room into a gloomy staircase, down to the entrance hall where Lupin and Longbottom where wrestling with a screeching portrait, and into the basement where the large, warm kitchen was situated. He was elbowed into a chair in the corner, with two Order members keeping a close eye on him.

The room was cluttered with mismatched chairs around a long sturdy table. A large fireplace was warming the room; in this house the saying "the kitchen is the heart of a house" was certainly true. Kikuta-san raised her eyebrows at the chairs and sat herself on one that had a suspiciously Oriental design; Draco was quite sure the chair was not one that was found in the kitchen usually.

The Order began to sit eagerly, but McGonagall came into the room in a hurry and ushered most of them out of the door with the same air she had guided first-years in Hogwarts. Two Weasleys took the places of Draco's guards; one of them was one of the twins, the other had a terribly scarred face and had tied his long hair back. Three other Weasleys lingered too; the mother, Ron, and the second twin, along with Lupin who had apparently finished his wrestle with the hideous woman in the portrait. McGonagall spoke a few quiet words to Lupin, and swept out with a hurry; apparently the Order had other business to attend to.

The door opened again before they had a chance to begin, and Nymphadora Tonks, with ridiculously coloured hair, entered with Granger hurrying after her. Draco stared at the Auror who practically bounced down to Lupin, kissing him on the cheek and informing the others, "Found Hermione at last; she was buried in some monster of a book in the upstairs library." Granger frowned at her but was too busy measuring out the new visitor to comment. "Wotcher, cousin!" Tonks had noticed Draco, waving cheekily at him. Draco dismissed her with a sniff and concentrated on Kikuta Kaede.

Finally the bustle calmed down and all eyes were turned towards the Asian woman. Potter made the initiative; "Err, so you said you are here to fulfil an agreement with Dumbledore?"

"Yes. I leglet to hear of his lecent death," she said bowing once more to Potter. "We were old fliends, and a few yeals back he sent me a letter where he asked me a favour. I have come to offer to tlain you, Hally Potter-san."

The room fell into a stunned silence.

"To train…me?" Potter opened his so-called mouth of a frog farm.

"Dumbledore did not tell you?"

"His death was very sudden and unexpected." A few blaming glares shot at Draco, who huddled on his chair, wondering what he was doing there. "Maybe he forgot he had asked, or he meant to tell me later…"

"Excuse me, but how did Dumbledore contact you?" Granger butted in. "I'm sorry to be wary, but we are in war at the moment."

"By his phoenix," the woman said and poked her hand into her sleeve. Out came a small, ugly chick. "Fawkes!" Potter held an eager hand out and the chick chirped at him. The lady gave it to him and Potter cradled the chick to his chest, where the newborn phoenix peered with its black eyes at everyone in the room. The others gathered around saying their hellos. "I thought he died when he flew to Dumbledore's grave!" Ron Weasley exclaimed.

The herald of this pleasant news waited patiently until the hubbub that seemed to be characteristic to the Order died down. She then silently proffered a scroll to Potter, who took it and glanced through it. "What does it say, Harry?" Lupin asked quietly. "Could you read it out loud?"

"Yes," Potter cleared his throat to get ready to read.

"Not just yet! Malfoy's still there, listening!" Ron Weasley interrupted suddenly.

"I've been listening for long enough that it hardly matters if I hear what the letter says or not," Draco drawled and Lupin nodded in agreement.

"Calm down, Ron." Hermione pulled the boy down next to her.

Harry started reading as if he had not been interrupted:

Dear Kaede,

I hope this letter finds you well; it has been far too long since we met last time. Hogwarts has been keeping me busy as a bumblebee, as you know; education has a large appetite for time. My position of captaining the magical learning of British children has been harrowed by a certain problem recently. Lord Voldemort has been making disturbing appearances, and young Harry Potter has been very much caught in the middle of this activity.

I am starting to fear that the one formerly known as Tom Riddle will return, and though I will do everything I can to prevent this, he is crafty. I therefore have a favour to ask of you. Harry Potter will be a person of vital importance, wanted or not, if a Second War breaks out, and he must have all the help he can. I will in all probability teach him myself eventually, but I have a feeling that a branch of Oriental magic would be helpful. There is a possibility that Harry can manage without your tuition, and I do wish to save you and him the trouble. There is the grim possibility that I will fall in this uprising of the Dark; it is the third I have seen and I am growing old.

If I were to fall, I ask you to take up Harry's training. He is a very powerful young wizard, and I do not have a doubt that you would be able to nourish and prune that budding power into its full glory. The possible downfall of myself is a sad prospect, but it is a prospect we must be ready for.

Think of this, however, Kaede, more of a warning. I will contact you if it becomes evident that your help is needed.

May Fortune smile upon you and your house.

Albus Dumbledore.

PS. I hope you enjoy these Sherbet Lemons Fawkes brings you with this letter. I find them very tasty myself.

Mrs. Weasley sobbed after Potter had finished the letter and the whole room had fallen to a miserable hush. The other twin moved to comfort his mother, and Lupin drew Tonks into a deep embrace. That pair was an unexpected one, Draco thought dryly as he tried to stay above the deep dark waters of remembrance, they must have at least, what, ten years of age difference. It was not uncommon in the wizarding world, but modern times had brought slight changes in the general opinion.

Potter was the first to find his voice. "I accept. I'd be honoured to be trained by you."

"It is my honour, Potter-san. Shall we set the deglees of the applenticeship immediately?"

Granger perked up at this. "What kind of degrees? Is the agreement a variation of the Apprenticeship Charm defined by Phyllis Brahman or is it one of the Ancient ones?" Ever the want-to-know-it-all.

"I do not know if the Blitish Wizalds know of it; it is a tladitional agleement we use in the Academy whenever a student wishes to become an applentice of someone," it seemed to be the first time the lady acknowledged Granger's presence and she seemed intrigued of this new person entering her world.

"Now hold on, I'm sorry, but could we just slow down a little and not jump to hasty decisions?" Lupin woke up from beneath Tonks. "I'm very sorry, madam, but we do not know you and I'm not sure if I'm ready to let Harry enter into an apprenticeship with someone who I know nothing of."

The lean woman showed her feelings for the first time, breaking into flustered bows and started a stream of apologies. "I'm vely solly, I do not know the customs of your countly, and…"

The Order was fully incapable of handling the situation and Draco shuddered at the ignorance they had of etiquette and manners. He stood up before he could stop himself, ignoring the protests the two Weasley guards voiced and drawled at the disorganised group in front of him, "It seems you do not have a clue of what you should do. I suggest that I, with my pureblood training, take over and reorganise this circus so that it is comfortable for your guest."

Potter threw Draco a sudden grateful smile, to which Draco had a sudden inclination of answering with a resembling one, but Draco thought better and nodded in return. Others were leering distrusting, and Weasley, of course, was starting to protest, but Granger grabbed his arm and started talking to him in a quiet voice.

"Kikuta-san, I express apologies for your hosts' impoliteness, and I hope we can forget this unfortunate meeting and start anew. I believe you would like to have a room where you can recover from your long journey," Draco offered with a deep bow.

Kikuta-san smiled with gratitude at Draco and bowed a little lower than before to him, "Thank you kindly, Malfoy-san, I am very glateful for your offer. I accept your apologies and tlust we can discuss this matter again in a more applopliate way."

Draco glanced at Potter who was already discussing with Mrs. Weasley, who after a few more words relented, came forward and bowed a little stiffly. "Good afternoon Kikuta-san, my name is Molly Weasley. If you follow me, please, I will show you your room."

There was no hope that Kikuta-san would receive respectable quarters, but it had to do. Draco turned to find Potter standing awkwardly behind him. "Now Potter, do you have a drawing room in this shack?"

"Err, yes, right here," he said, leading Draco to the first floor room. "It's not in a very good shape; we did manage to get rid of the things living in here, but there hasn't been much time to make it more…pleasant." Draco sniffed at the grey, gloomy room.

"It will have to do. We need some armchairs and a small table arranged as a group, and… do you have any good tea?"

"It's good enough…"

"Show me."

The tea proved to be acceptable. Draco wished he had access to the tea cupboard of the Manor, where every possible type of tea could be found. Kikuta-san was probably used to the Oriental green tea, which was rather mild to British taste, but Draco did not even mention it to Potter, as it would be a hopeless case.

The drawing room was arranged according to Draco's guidance and he concentrated on discussing the attendance of the discussion. Draco would not have the Weasley clan in there again, and rather hoped to have only Potter, Lupin and possibly Granger there; others would only be in the way, and Lupin and Granger would be impossible to stop from coming.

A small argument broke out with Ron Weasley, of course, but the Granger girl seemed to have a quite a strong hold over him and she managed to fight him down. The other Weasleys cleared out huffily and soon Draco found himself sitting in the drawing room with Potter, Lupin and Granger. He massaged his temples slightly, wondering what the hell he was doing there, teaching members of the Order of the Phoenix Oriental etiquette, but swept the wondering away. He had to do something to stay sane, and this was better than staying in his room.

"Before I start giving you a crash course on manners, what the hell was that carnival the Order managed the organise all the bleeding time?"

Lupin smiled rather weakly at him. "A meeting had just ended when the front door - which is usually highly protected and bolted in various ways - opened and revealed this lady, who proceeded quite calmly to ask Dedalus Diggle where a certain Harry Potter-san was. The fool in his utter surprise pointed upstairs, where she probably Apparated --" at this point Granger presented a exasperated sound "-- ignoring the strong anti-Apparation wards on the whole property as she immediately disappeared. The people present were quite shaken at this, and, well… we are rather stressed nowadays and the reaction comes before thought."

"Can't you manage anything without Dumbledore?" Draco quipped and regretted it immediately. Potter only smiled tightly at him.

"It seems we can't."

"Harry, stop that. We are doing well, considering how most of the structure of the Order collapsed with the loss of Dumbledore. Malfoy, I'll have you know that we have done one hell of a job, readjusting and recreating the protections on the Order, organising everyone, recruiting…"

"Alright, alright, Granger, I'm sorry," Draco replied, which shut her up very well, as an apology was not something she expected from Draco Malfoy.

"If we could now concentrate on the matter on hand, I will gladly be filled on the dreadful condition of the Order later," Draco ended the discussion, slightly baffled by the notion that he was hearing all of the Order's problems. A guilt tried to whisper deep in is mind, but he blocked it with iron will.

The basics of the decorum Japanese usually expected were soon understood by the three students of Draco. He was a little baffled by the manner of Kikuta-san, as she clearly understood that the western wizards had their surnames last, but she did not flip her name over like the few Oriental wizards Draco had seen before. She also barged into the house without any problem, but then fell into twitters as soon as she was confronted. Full of suspicious paradoxes, Draco thought, as he placed a pot of tea on the table with small cups, which at least were of the same set and porcelain.

Straightening his poor robes, he suddenly grabbed Potter's arm. "By the way, Potter, could I have some new clothes? I'm rather bored of these by now."

" I think there's something in the big wardrobe…"

"I said new clothes, Potter, something from this decade," Draco sneered at him. A sudden flash went through Potters eyes, which made Draco rather apprehensive of what Potter actually relented to when he agreed readily and called to some witch Draco did not know, who flashed a grin at Draco and tottered off. Draco had no time to think about that, since a cuckoo clock sang the time to be a quarter to eight.

Potter jumped and started to tussle his messy hair even further. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Is anyone going to get Kikuta-san?"

"I'll go," Granger jumped up and marched out of the room. She came back with Kikuta-san soon and shut the door after them. The whole group bowed to each other, exchanged greetings and then proceeded to sit, Granger, Potter and Lupin on one side of the coffee table and Draco and Kikuta-san sitting opposite them.

"I believe you, Kikuta-san, have offered to take Mr. Harry Potter as your apprentice," Drao opened the discussion.

"Yes, indeed. By the agleement we had with Dumbledore-san, I am leady to educate Potter-san in the ways of Oliental Magic."

"Mr. Lupin here," Draco nodded his head at the named, "is anxious about Mr. Potter entering an apprenticeship with someone we do not know very much. I agree that a introduction should first be made."

"I would be glad, Lupin-san. I am Kikuta Kaede of the ancient war mage house of Kikuta. I teach in the _Gakuin Mahou_, or as it is known here the Oliental Academy of Magic. The tladitions of the Academy go far, and I have been honouled to teach Offensive and Defensive Magic there, for thilty yeals now. I am specialized in Magical Maltial Alts."

"Thank you, Kikuta-san," Draco said when it was evident that the Oriental teacher felt everything needed was said. Lupin then took his turn to question her.

"Which country is this Academy situated in?"

"Cullently in my homecountly, Japan. It was situated in China until the Communist Levolution in the ealy 20th century folced it to flee; the Levolution was vely extensive. But the Academy teaches all childlen willing and capable of Magic in Centlal and Easteln Asia, excluding Nolth Kolea Some students come flom elsewhere, but mainly we have students flom China and Japan."

"So there are other schools in Asia?"

"Yes, vely many, and some in our alea also, but we plide oulselves to be the most extensive educator of whole Asia. We have magical education of any and all blanches of Oliental Magic at our institute."

"How many students do you have in the Academy then?"

"About ten thousand." This caused a silence in the room.

"How are you able to teach so many children?"

"People do not learn more than five or six subjects, and we have apploximately nine hundled teachers. We have vely long tladitions."

"I am sure of it," Lupin stammered.

"Are you now willing to give Hally Potter-san the permission to enter applenticeship?"

"Yes, I think I am satisfied," Lupin said weakly.

"So, Hally Potter-san, are you leady to set the deglees?"

"Yes, I am," Potter affirmed steadily.

"Good. Before we begin, I must warn you that if you learn Oliental Magic, Westeln Magic is something you will mostly not be able to do."

"Excuse me?" Potter stared wide-eyed.

"The theolies on which these main blanches are based ale vely diffelent. I will have to unteach you much of what you have learned until now, so you will be able to master Oliental Magic."

"Err…" Starting from scratch wasn't appealing to Potter.

"Is it necessary? Harry has spent six long years at Hogwarts learning a lot of difficult, important things! Six years' worth of knowledge is a lot to lose!" Granger entered the discussion.

"It is, so that Potter-san can learn the techniques I teach," Kikuta-san replied, saying this rather happily, as if it was not such a big issue as it was to the Western wizards.

"How much will it affect, exactly?" Granger prodded.

"I think I have an article on the effects somewhere." Kikuta-san poked her hand into her sleeves and rummaged. "Here," she said, pulling her arm out with a scroll with miniscule characters. "I am solly, but it is wlitten in the language of Kijutsu, the dialect of all magical people in Asia. I could tlanslate it to you as best as I can."

"Please do." Granger was practically twitching with her eagerness of receiving knowledge from the other side of the world.

Kikuta-san opened the scroll and began to move her hands over the script, uttering quiet mumbling. The scroll's small characters began to rearrange themselves into Roman letters. The others in the room stared, but their amazement was even more evident when the parchment started to cough and mumble to itself, practising English words, "I, you, we, Magic, tlanscliption, movement, kittens…"

Kikuta-san sighed and shook her head, and then bowed in apology. "I am solly, but my skills in tlanslation are not gleat. It will begin leading itself soon."

The others assured her it was fine and the scroll soon began to lecture in a dreary voice, which was surprisingly similar to Binns' except for its difficulties with pronouncing the words. Potter soon stopped listening, but Lupin and especially Granger listened with vigour. Draco managed to decipher that a person who started to study Oriental Magic would not use Western incantations, and would prefer the use of Oriental spell casting and use the equivalent Oriental spells when they needed to do magic. It didn't sound too bad, Draco thought to himself. Granger evidently thought otherwise, as she revealed after the scroll had finished its stumbling monologue.

"So Harry's magical signature would change, and he would have troubles to understand Western Magic, for example some wards would not recognise him?"

"Yes."

"To me those seem rather useful qualities," Draco interrupted.

"You don't see, Malfoy, he might change the whole wards of this house that are locked to him, and it isn't sure if Western Healing Magic would be able to heal him!" That was a good point.

"The wards will survive," Lupin said. "They might actually become stronger."

"How do you know?" Granger cried and a technical argument commenced.

"I'll enter the apprenticeship," Potter said, stopping the quarrel after a few minutes.

"But Harry! What if you would be hit by some deadly curse and no-one could help?"

"If I'll come resistant to Stunning Spells like Kikuta-san, I think it's worth the risk!"

"But, Harry…!"

"It's my choice." Something in Potter's voice stopped all arguments.

"Vely good." Kikuta-san settled the matters. Just as the three Order members were calm again, she drew yet another surprise card from her sleeve. "I have only one condition I want to set. I wish to tlain Malfoy-san alongside Potter-san." Now this was a surprise above all. The Order members were flabbergasted and Draco wasn't too far behind.

"Well," was the only comprehensive word they were able to produce for a while.

"I am not sure if you are aware that Mr. Malfoy is not our guest, but our… how should I say this, in our custody. He has just leaped to our side from the Death Eaters' and we are not ready to give him his wand yet…" Lupin tried to explain, but Kikuta-san was unaffected.

"He will not need a wand."

"But he will learn magic! We do not trust him enough yet!" Granger opposed.

"He is tlustwolthy."

"He is?" The three on the other side of the table sounded as one.

"I certainly am," Draco huffed.

"And we're supposed to trust you?" A squabble was starting to brew.

"He is tlustwolthy. I will vouch for him."

"That is not good enough," Potter voiced in a pained voice suddenly.

"I will set a binding degree to the applenticeship agleement. He will not be able to leave or contact anyone outside this house without pelmission."

"Wouldn't be much of a difference," Draco said quietly. "I agree."

"Vely good. I will set up the agleement." Kikuta-san didn't need anything else and started rummaging her sleeves. The opinions of Lupin, Granger and Potter were ignored and they soon relented sulkily. Kikuta-san set up an incense stick and lit it with a flick of her hand. A pleasant spicy smell filled the room. Granger was practically ripping her robes in her excitement, asking questions about everything, to which Kikuta-san tried to answer with her best capability.

"Give some space, will you, Granger?" Malfoy sneered. "It would probably be easier to set an apprenticeship without a nosy know-it-all poking her ugly nose into everything."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Granger said calmly, but sat back into her armchair and felt her nose.

Kikuta-san started a mumbling chant and drew characters into the smoke of the incense, which solidified in a circle shape. She then drew a character in front of herself and one in front of both Draco and Potter's eyes.

"Do you aglee to enter applenticeship undel me, Hally Potter?"

"Err…yes?"

"Do you aglee to enter applenticeship undel me Dlaco Malfoy?

"Yes."

"So it will be."

The characters flashed a bright light and vanished, and the incense burned out. Draco blinked his eyes, which still stung from the light. Potter was staring at his palm. It had the character imprinted on the skin. Draco noticed he had one too.

"Flom now on, you will call me _sensei_ and I will call you _deshi_," Kikuta-san told them. "We will begin lessons tomollow. Good night, deshi."

"Good night, sensei," Draco said, followed by Potter. There was a short bowing and then Kikuta-san marched from the room.

"That was amazing," Granger exclaimed, "the use of sigils and the making of the connection! And then the marks on the skin…I wonder!" And she buzzed off somewhere.

"And she's off again," Lupin sighed. Turning on Potter he asked, "Are you all right? How do you feel?"

"Not very different…"Potter said.

"So," Draco drawled, "what shall you do about me now?"

The two Order members looked sharply at him.

"I guess we'll have to suffer you around," Potter commented dryly.

* * *

And lastly, Merry Christmas to you all! 


	5. Chapter 4 Introduction to Oriental

Whattdyamean I've been lazy? Well, whatever, nobody seemed to miss me, so blame yourselves if you were yearning from some more.

(And thanks for Noora again for all the beta work. She did it on time and all. I just didn't get around to posting it.)

* * *

**4. Introduction to Oriental Magical Studies**

**Where the Dragon and the One begin their journey**

The next day Draco awoke in his bed and wondered for a short time, what the hell he was doing. A sharp knock on the door raised him quickly and he sauntered to open it. He found the woman Potter had sent for clothes standing behind it, holding a big package in her hands.

"Your clothes," she said, thrusting them into his arms with an amused smile and marching off again. Draco raised an eyebrow, shut the door and began to investigate. What he found was not pleasing.

The whole package was filled with simple Muggle clothing.

What were they _thinking_?

Plain white T-shirts. A pair of jeans. A pair of loose slacks made of college. A grey sweater with a zipper in front of it. And he was supposed to wear _these_?

Cassiopeia had awoken drowsily, and inquired with zeal about his new clothes, which she could not see from behind the bed. Sullenly Draco lifted a shirt and Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows.

"And you are supposed to wear _those_?"

"He can either wear them or come with me to see the Sensei _naked_." Potter had entered with his bloody silent trick.

"Could you please learn some manners and not barge into my room? Now that I am able to open the door, I would be happy to do it!"

"My house."

"Well, if you would have the courtesy to give me at least peace to change into these filthy pieces of cloth you name clothes, I would be _grateful_!"

"Sure. I just came to inform you that the Sensei wants to meet us as soon as possible. So when you're ready, come to the kitchen for breakfast." Draco glared at him every step of the way to the door, and until he was sure that the door was closed.

"So you are going to have to put _those_ on?" Cassiopeia blurted out unhelpfully.

* * *

After Draco had pulled on the socks coming with the package, he drew a deep breath, opened the door and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. It was governed by Mrs. Weasley, who was parading around the fire throwing hurt glances at the Sensei, who was being pestered by Granger. Potter was next to them, chatting away with Ron Weasley and the Loony girl from Ravenclaw, who was dressed even more awfully than Draco himself. They all lifted their heads as Draco opened the door.

"Oh, close the door quietly, would--!" came too late from the Weasley woman, and as soon as the door slammed, a screech awoke outside it.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Weasley sighed. " Could someone go shut Mrs. Black up?"

"I'll go, Mum." Ron Weasley rose. "I don't want to be in the same room with _him_."

He was sure to knock into Draco's shoulder as he went past, with the Loony girl, who wished a good morning to Draco in a dreamy voice, going along in his tow. Draco huffed at her and walked up to Potter and the others.

"So the sleeping beauty has at last deigned to enchant us with his presence," Potter smiled at him as Mrs. Weasley brought him a plate of porridge with a golden eye of butter winking at him.

"No chance of croissants and espresso, I suppose," Draco muttered darkly and dug into it, "You could've come to wake me up."

"Did I say sleeping beauty? More like the sleeping beast. I wasn't going to get my head bitten off," Harry replied airily and Draco frowned as he vaguely remembered someone knocking at his door and his answer to it.

The Sensei had waited patiently while the boys had their midday quipping at each other. She said something to Granger, who readily whisked away into some hole of study of hers. Draco and Potter closed their mouths and turned to face the Sensei.

"We will begin our lessons at plecisely seven o'clock every day. If you are late, you get extla work-out." Draco groaned while he ate his breakfast. "Today we will go thlough the culliculum and study the diffelences of Westeln and Oliental Magic. Potter-san, would you be kind and supply us a loom for plactice?"

"Yes, I've already reserved one of the third floor rooms for us."

"Good. I will meet you there in half an hour." And with this she left.

Draco and Potter looked at each other awkwardly, and Draco solved the situation by finishing his breakfast.

"I wonder if we need something to make notes with," Potter opened the conversation nervously. Going back to learning seemed to erase his cool attitude.

"I wouldn't think so. Oriental studies traditionally require you to learn things by heart."

Potter gulped, "That sounds difficult."

"I bet it will be to you."

"Oh, and why will you do better than me?"

"I have eidetic memory. I can remember anything I hear."

"That must be useful." Potter was clearly envious and Draco smirked. There was no way he would tell Potter that Draco's father had actually trained him in the skill.

"Now that I'm able to walk around the house, could you give me tour?"

"Sure. We'll start from the bottom, which is here, the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley has kindly promised to cook the Order food, and take care of all matters concerning the household, as I sent Kreacher to Hogwarts."

"Wasn't much use anyway," Mrs. Weasley commented as she cleared Draco's dishes away with a wave of her wand.

"That door goes to the pantry," Potter pointed, "and this to the hallway."

"I'm not stupid," Draco growled at him and Potter gave him an innocent 'aren't you?' look.

Potter thanked Mrs. Weasley and they left the kitchen, taking care to close the door quietly. Arriving into the hallway, Potter lowered his voice into a whisper.

"You have to be quiet here. The portrait of Mrs. Black tends to go into bellowing hysterics every time she has an excuse to wake up."

"Why don't you remove the portrait?" Draco whispered back, looking at the mouldy curtains hiding the painting spoken of.

"We haven't figured out any way to get it off the wall yet. Sirius," Potters eyes dimmed at this point, "said she had charmed it Irremovable or something, when she lived." Draco eyed the portrait with even more interest, trying to peer under the curtains as they walked past it, and decided to look at it when he had a chance.

"And here's the first floor, you know the drawing room already, and that's Hermione's bedroom. There's the meeting room," Potter said, and a door opened, showing a gloomy room with a long dark table with matching chairs. The light of a sparkling chandelier showed a few scrolls lying around on the table.

"Otherwise, this floor mainly has some empty rooms we use for storage, and that room," Potter pointed, "seems to have some kind of a Befuddling Charm on it, that we haven't managed to crack yet, so you might want to stay clear of it."

They tramped up to the second floor. "Ron and I sleep there, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley there, Bill and Fleur here, now that they're back from their honeymoon and looking for an apartment…"

"You mean Fleur as in Fleur Delacour?"

"Yes, why?"

"She married a Weasley?"

"Bill Weasley. You know, the one who has long hair and who has the scars by Fenrir Greyback, when Hogwarts was attacked?" Draco shut his mouth at this and let Potter continue.

"And here's Lupin's and nowadays also Tonks' bedroom, though they haven't announced anything official yet."

"Seemed rather official to me," Draco remarked.

"The broom cupboard, as we can't use the downstairs one anymore; it started eating the brooms up, and the room we use when we have to leave quickly by brooms, it has the biggest windows. And this is the bedroom I gave to the Sensei." The door was painted red and had black characters on it and a Fireball carved above it, which was eyeing the two boys with suspicion. Potter returned it a baffled look. "She somehow converted the whole place over night, it used to be just the same as all the rooms in the house. Hermione talked something about dimensional-transfer and morphing, but all I understood was that I can't control the room anymore."

They continued to the third floor. "Here's George and Fred's room, when they're not staying in their flat above their shops, and this is Charlie's, though he's currently in Romania… "

"Is the whole Weasley clan living in Grimmauld Place?" Draco scorned.

"The Burrow got attacked a week after Bill and Fleur's wedding."

"Oh… I didn't know, I was probably on the run then…" Potter looked at him and continued.

"Luckily, no-one got hurt, though Mrs. Weasley had her arm almost ripped off when she insisted to save the grandfather clock, so I made them stay here. And here is the room I named for our training," The dark door was emblazoned with a Chinese character, and Potter frowned at it, "and I have no idea what is happening inside, it seems she's in a process of wrecking the whole place." Glancing at a clock, which was ticking more loudly than you would expect a clock to and showing them that they had still twenty minutes time, he continued, "The room next to it is the old dining room, but we eat in the kitchen, as it is more comfortable, and that is the smaller ballroom, and this the master bathroom."

Yet another staircase up to the fourth floor, which held the larger ballroom, and a toilet with a ghoul Draco was told he would not want to meet, so they went up without further ado.

"On the fifth floor we have the library, where Hermione dwells most of the time, when she isn't in Hogwarts getting more books. She's probably got half of it in here now. And that's the games room, with any game you can imagine. And that is the old room of Buckbeak…"

"Is that monster in here?" Draco started.

"I said _old_ room. And he is not a monster; the whole scene back then was your own bloody fault."

"Was not."

"Whatever, Malfoy. The room however is still not cleaned after him, full of rat skeletons and such, but it's Mrs. Black's old bedroom so no one could care less. Those stairs lead to the attic, which is full of cobwebs and odd bits and bobs. We haven't yet managed to clean it, so there might be something dangerous there. That's the house."

"It's in shabby shape," Draco frowned at the greying walls.

"We haven't got spare time to fancy it up. We've tried to make it as safe as possible," Potter shrugged apologetically.

"Mind if I do something to it?"

"Like what?"

"As long as I don't have my wand…"

"And you are not having it for a long time."

"…I can only arrange the furniture and see if I can persuade everything to lighten up a bit. Just something for me to do and keep myself sane."

"Sure."

"Unlike you, I like to do something instead of being bored."

"I'm not that keen on decorating as you are."

"Taking care of a house's appearance is nothing to be ashamed about," Draco answered haughtily, "And what is that door? It wasn't here before."

"Oh, that is the Travelling Room. It moves around the house, sometimes disappears. We use it for safekeeping. I'd recommend you to stay away from it, as you might find yourself stuck in it. As the Owner I'm the only one able to control it. And I'm not sure how soon we'll notice you're gone." Potter patted the door and it wagged its handle like a dog wags its tail to its master. Draco ignored his threat and asked how much time they had.

" A little over five minutes. Might as well go down." So they descended to the stairs and found Sensei waiting for them on the third floor.

"Come in, please," she ordered and led them to the room. It was light with whitewashed walls and it had a soft tatami floor made of straw. Before letting them in the Sensei told them that no shoes were allowed on the tatami. Neither of them did have shoes on, but she still gave them beautiful embroidered silk slippers to wear.

The Sensei then proceeded to kneel on the floor in one fluid motion, and proffered the two boys to sit opposite her. Potter was lost, as usual, but when Draco knelt down into the Japanese seiza posture, Potter copied him. The Sensei smiled dryly to their efforts and waited in silence for a while. Draco felt his feet becoming numb and tried not to concentrate on the uncomfortable feeling. Potter was having more troubles controlling himself and started fidgeting soon.

"It is vely polite to do the _seiza_ with me. I am, however, aware of the unpleasantness of it to unused. You may sit closs-legged on the tatami."

Draco thanked the sensei and moved his legs relieved; Potter sighed beside him and Draco eyed his slouched posture with contempt and made sure his back was straight.

"You have agleed to enter applenticeship under me. I will therefore teach you as well as I can the Art of Oliental Defensive and Agglesive Magic. It is difficult, because we have so little time and so much to learn. I will therefore concentlate on the main points and leave out much that I would teach to students in the Academy, who have yeals for studying. Our culliculum will be in its basics be the following.

"You will learn today the diffelences of Oliental and Westeln Magic. I will also intloduce you to youl workout ploglamme that you will begin to follow starting flom tomollow. It will be compiled flom yoga, tai chi, and other Oliental plactices for tlaining your body. Meditation will also become a basic part of your day. Tomollow we will study bleathing techniques. Then we will cover theolies of the mind and body, Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, Shintoism, Confucianism and other…"

"Excuse me, but aren't we going to learn magic?" Potter interrupted rudely, though Draco had been wondering the same.

"Magic will come alongside. That is the diffelence of Westeln and Oliental Magic. We think of the world as a balanced complete, all is one and one is all. Therefore magic is not separate, it is part of the world. Evelything affects it. When your mind and body are in balance, your magic is in balance.

"In the Westeln Magic, you channel your magic by a wand. In the Oliental Magic we do not even begin the attempt to channel magic. You contlol magic, we…how do you say…let magic be. Here you tlain only magic, we tlain the whole. In Oliental Agglessive and Defensive Magic, the body is as impoltant as magic. When you master it, there is no line between your body and your mind, magic and movement.

"And as you have no knowledge on Oliental philosophies, and you have had no physical training, we must concentlate on those first. So, as I was saying, after studying Oliental philosophies and an intloduction to yoga and tai chi, we continue into Martial Arts…"

* * *

They broke off for dinner after a few hours. Draco's mind was whirling with the possibilities and new views on magic. The Sensei had told them that transferring your mind from the Western way of thinking into the Oriental would be difficult, due to the age, but possible. They had done practises with images and concepts, and now Draco felt his mind had been jinxed with a Bat-Bogey Hex.

He sat down next to Potter without even thinking about it. Ron Weasley and Granger sat before them. They looked worryingly at Potter, who was staring into space.

"Harry, are you alright?" Granger asked.

"What? Yeah, I just…Wow… What a mind trip."

"You hit the nail for once, Potter," Draco said, without bothering to insert a nasty tone.

"I just wonder… If magic can be…done it the way that she showed us… Why don't we do that here?" When Weasley asked what he meant, he began describing excitedly the feats the Sensei performed to them. Draco rolled his eyes and concentrated on the delicious smell that was emerging from a giant pot in the fireplace. He had to admit that the Weasley woman could cook.

Halfway through Potter's description of the Sensei illustrating the co-operating of the mind and body by the example of levitation, Mrs. Weasley floated a bowl of warm stew to each.

"So Kikuta-san will not eat with us, will she?" she inquired from Potter in hurt tones.

"Err... No, she actually asked me to send her apologies and a message that her stomach is not a friend of British food," Potter replied.

"Can't see what's wrong with this," Ron Weasley said through a mouthful of mutton. Draco noticed Granger giving him an as disgusted a look as he himself did.

"She's probably not used to this much fat in her diet. Japanese mainly eat rice and vegetables, with an occasional addition of fish," Draco informed them.

"And who asked you?" Ron Weasley glared at him.

"No one has ever before complained that my food was _fatty_," Mrs Weasley said and walked off to sulk with some laundry.

"Harry, what did Kikuta-san say about the differences of Western and Oriental magic?" Granger was trembling with eagerness.

"Well, she said something about Oriental magic not using wands and that they control their magic more by the body…"

"She said nothing of the sort, you git," Draco interrupted him and turned to Granger in haughty pride. "Oriental Magic does not channel power through wands or command words like we do. She described it as 'letting magic be', so I suspect there is a certain word for it in Kijutsu, which is difficult to translate into English.

"Basically, what I gathered from her lecture is, that when an Oriental witch or wizard wishes to perform magic, she only needs to express this wish, and it happens. There are numerous different descriptions of the process; some philosophies use metaphors such as 'loaning from the gods' and others as 'extending your soul'…"

"So they do not separate religion from magic?" Granger butted in.

"No, to them religion is integrated to every part of life, including magic." This led into an intense discussion on magic, which Draco surprised found that he enjoyed. Potter and Weasley watched them for a few minutes, but soon found they could not follow and began to talk of the Sensei's coolness.


	6. Chapter 5 Meditation and Cleaning

**Meditation and Cleaning**

**The Dragon gets busy.**

The next morning was as hard as Draco had feared. Potter invaded his peace of mind with a Howling Charm. Draco's mind and body screamed in unison that it was way too early, but Potter was persistent.

"Bloody hell, what're you doing, fuck off," Draco groaned from his pillow.

"Oh my, your mouth is certainly not the most clean thing in the morning. If you don't feel like washing it yourself, maybe I'll scourgify it for you."

"This time of day is inhuman," Draco moaned.

"You don't make any sense, Malfoy. You should thank me for waking you up, or would you rather have done extra work-out for being late?"

"Bugger off, Potter. Your face first in the morning does not make me less grumpier."

"Chop chop now, breakfast is served and Sensei is waiting for us in half an hour."

"My stomach isn't awake yet."

"Well starve then. See you." The harasser left the room in a blessed calm and Draco settled into his bed, already half asleep.

"Oh no, you don't," Cassiopeia shrieked from her painting. "Get your lazy bottom out of here; I still need a good few hours of beauty sleep, and there won't be one moment of quiet here if you lie in now. Harry's Howling Charm is very efficient, and I don't want to experience it again today."

Draco scowled at her and crawled into the bathroom wishing all talkative portraits a holiday with dragons. After he had awakened himself with a quick cold shower, he noticed his reflection in the large mirror Potter had supplied him. Running his fingers over his features in the mirror, he grimaced at the bad condition of his looks.

A few years back he had prided himself to be easily the most handsome boy at Hogwarts. The only one who got more second glances was Potter, who gained it with his over-rated history and uproarious rumours. It all changed last year. He had no time for caring for himself, the sleepless nights and stressful days soon crippling him.

And then that encounter with Potter, leaving him scarred across his chest. The once untouched snow-white plains now had a dark red road where Potter had cut him with a curse. And that was not the only mark flawing his skin. Cuts and bruises formed patterns all over his bodies, still in the process of healing. The skin itself was greyed and tired-looking, loose over some bones, stretching over his ribs, showing the quivering of his heart.

No more manicured nails, no more smooth, soft lips, no more light catching silver-gold hair, no more silver eyes with secret flames.

He looked how he felt.

Draco could feel the sobs making their way up his throat, his chest straining against the pressure of breathing. He sank into a corner, pressing his hands against the cage trying to open up and flood him. He could not fall now. He would not give in now.

* * *

Draco managed to get himself ready just on time, hurrying up the two floors between his room and the training room, still composing his features into that safe mask. Potter congratulated him for being on time, knocked on the door and entered. Draco took a deep breath and entered.

The morning exercises consisting of yoga, tai chi and meditation were begun, both boys struggling with the unfamiliar movements, trying to keep in balance and focus under the hawk eye of the Sensei. Keeping thoughts on only your movement and sensation brought a long wanted peace to Draco's mind, but keeping it so was hard.

Finally the Sensei let them sit down and relax, guiding them through breathing exercises, telling them about theories of breathing and drawing pictures and graphs of the human anatomy in the air. After a few hours of heavy breathing, Potter, renowned for his impatience, finally burst out, interrupting the lecture.

"Excuse me sensei, but why aren't we studying fighting techniques or other useful things?"

Draco had a strong urge to knock Potter's thick head into the wall, but the Sensei just raised her eyebrows and explained.

"Bleathing is the basic action of everything. It is the key to evelything. Without bleath there is no life, no movement, no action."

"But I've breathed for my all my life without any problem, why should I breathe any differently now?"

"Each bleath of air blings enelgy. The better you bleathe the better your whole body and mind work. By collect bleathing you can calm yourself even in stlessful times and use magic more effectively." This didn't convince the Boy Who Lived Without A Brain at all, and the Sensei sighed and asked Potter to draw his wand. Puzzled, Potter managed to obey her.

"Now. Please hit this surface I cleate. It will change its colour according to the power of your stlike; the ledder the colour the stlonger the hit."

Potter did what he was told; aiming at the quivering lattice of magic the Sensei had whipped up on one wall. It turned into a greenish yellow, giving Draco a good grin.

"Now bleathe with the planayama technique you have just learned." Potter breathed in with more strength than usual.

"Now stlike with just the same force as before." The lattice turned into a blazing orange.

"Please explain how you felt as you leleased your magic?"

"Well, umm, it was easier to draw magic out."

"Good. Now it seems to be the time for lunch. We will continue in two hours."

Draco suddenly noticed how hungry he was, and was rewarded by a mouth-watering aroma from the kitchen. This time also the Weasley twins and Fleur Delacour joined the usual group

"Hello, Harry dear!" Mrs. Weasley welcomed when they walked in. "Hello, Draco."

Draco found himself smiling at her, and didn't even bother checking himself in. He sat again beside the Gryffindor Three, waiting eagerly for the meal. Fleur Delacour moved to greet Draco, and Draco winced inwardly. He was not feeling up to seeing the beautiful girl; she only reminded him of his lost looks.

"'Ello, you are the famous monsieur Malfoy, are you not?" the part-Veela breathed in her singsong way.

"A pleasure, mademoiselle Delacour, how do you do?"

"Ah, no more mademoiselle and no more Delacour. I'm proud to tell you I am madame Bill Weasley."

"Congratulations, madame Weasley." Draco cursed himself for forgetting. Mother would have been shocked with his manners. But Mother was –

"But please call me Fleur, I do not feel that old yet!"

"Old is not a word I could think of when with you."

"Oh, you flatter me! But 'ow are you? You must 'ave 'ad a very tough time!"

"I make do," Draco tried to smile, "but what about you? You seem to be blooming."

"A woman is almost at her most beautiful when pregnant," Mrs. Weasley beamed as she brought them a plate of chicken and rice each. Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. The Weasleys were miraculous in their ability to reproduce.

Fleur accepted his repeated congratulations with flushed cheeks, and as Mrs. Weasley sat beside her she began a sparkle-eyed conversation about childcare and nappies. Draco could not care less, so he concentrated in eating his food.

"Mum just loves Fleur now that she is giving her a grandchild. Remember the beginning?" Ron Weasley rolled his eyes.

"Oh yes, it was practically the Cold War in the Burrow," Granger commented.

"What's that?" Weasley asked, echoing Draco's thoughts.

"A hostile situation in Muggle politics between the Soviet Union and the States from the 40's until the 80's. It was caused by—"

"Magical history is boring enough, 'Mione. So what were you saying, Harry?"

"Just wondering what breathing actually has anything to do with magic."

"Potter, the Sensei explained it to you separately after explaining it many times before," Draco scorned.

"Breathing and magic?" Weasley scoffed.

"Yes, Weasley. I'll explain it so that even your empty skull can understand it. Air equals energy, energy equals magic, so air equals magic."

"It does actually work," Potter said as Weasley blushed in his ugly way, "the Sensei made me hit this charm that changed colour according to the power of the magic hitting it, and the hit after breathing with the plana-thingie was stronger."

"Pranayama, Potter, pranayama. And it was not a charm, it was a magical lattice for detecting levels of magic use." By this time Granger was squirming with questions and Draco gladly entered a discussion that involved brain cells.

When they had finished eating, and Draco rose to go to his room, Mrs. Weasley pulled him aside and asked him nervously if the food was good.

"Err… yes, it was delicious, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you."

"Was it …well, fatty?"

Draco blinked a few times before he answered, "No, it was just perfect."

"Thank you, Draco dear," Mrs Weasley smiled at him and bustled off.

* * *

The days went on and Draco fell to the rhythm of the morning exercises, lessons, practices, lunches, lectures, workout, classes, training, supper, and long evenings turning into long nights, trying to avoid nightmares and thinking about things that were not to be thought about.

Meditation, it seemed, helped and as Draco became more used to it, he used a lot of his alone time in a state of mental peace. He was also gaining weight, and Draco spent time before the mirror watching as his body healed and started forming lean muscles. He had had muscles before, gained from Quidditch, but these were more refined, more generally spread. His body was no more a perfection of elegance and purity, but he found he rather liked the new, strong look of himself.

But his eyes were still as haunted as before and he feared those moments when everything broke down and he felt so alone and lost.

The wary true that seemed to have formed between Draco and the Order held, and he talked politely to all (except maybe Ron Weasley), keeping his thoughts to himself. Molly Weasley became quite warm towards him and Arthur Weasley smiled at him. Lupin and Tonks chatted to him occasionally. Fleur struck a certain familiar chord with him, talking of beauty care and etiquette and things that Draco was used to hearing from pureblooded, high-class wives. The Weasley brothers kept a distance from him, but did not bother him.

When Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt or other aurors of the Ministry visited he quickly hid in his room, not wanting to face any interrogation. They had tried to, but he never knew anything that mattered in Death Eater circles, and even if he did, the news were already old.

Granger's discussion he actually enjoyed during the meals, finding her the only person to share his thoughts on magic and other intellectual things, but that was all. Weasley he picked on, as Granger and Potter kept him from attacking Draco, and well, Draco found no other use for him. He kept his hands strictly off Potter, sharing lessons, but nothing else.

A few weeks into the training, Potter told the Sensei that he had to go away for a few days on Order business.

"Vely well," said the Sensei, "we will pause the lessons for the time being."

Draco frowned, but kept quiet. What would he do during those days?

In the evening, when Potter had gone off to fight and be a hero, Weasley and Granger with him, she knocked on Draco's door.

"Sensei-san!" Draco bowed to her.

"Would Malfoy-san give me the pleasure of dlinking tea with me?"

"Of course, sensei-san."

She led him to her room, and the carved dragon bowed to her as she entered with Draco. While two embroidered slippers helped themselves on his feet, he appraised the room. It was a peaceful light room, its wall panelled with a beautiful white wood, one wall opened fully to be a window, showing the rooftops of London. Paper screens painted with depictions of nature were on one side, ready to be slid to cover the windows. Screens were also dividing other parts of the room out of sight. No furniture was in sight.

"I suppose your implessive knowledge on Japanese etiquette does not include the alt of the tea celemony, Malfoy-san?"

"I am sorry, no. And I only know enough to survive."

"But that is much alleady. How have you come by to learning the etiquette of such a faraway land, may I ask?"

"My…mother taught me. As a Malfoy I am required to handle any social situation possible."

"That is a vely useful skill. How is your mother?"

Draco swallowed painfully. "She is dead."

"I am solly. Forgive me for leminding you of your painful loss, Malfoy-san."

Draco fought back his tears and the darkness gathering in the back of his mind threatening to swallow him. He gratefully accepted the teacup the Sensei offered him and sipped from it. She set the teapot she had produced from her sleeve and drank from her own cup.

"This is very good tea," Draco said.

"Thank you. The leaf is glown by my blother-in-law. He is vely skilled in tea glowing."

"I wish your sister and her husband are well."

"Oh, I do not have a sister. My brother and his partner are however vely well," the Sensei smiled dryly. Draco took a big gulp of the hot tea to mask his surprise, burning his throat.

"So same-sex marriages are approved in Japan?" he blurted out after a while and flushed.

"Not by all, no," the Sensei replied with sparkling eyes, "but as there is no law against it, it is possible to mally a pelson of the same sex. It is also helped in the magical community by the fact that we do not legister in the Mágua government, who do not allow same-sex couples to legister. Wizalds and witches only need to go thlough the Shinto ceremony.

"But most older and tladitional people do not accept it at all. My father, who is vely tladitional does not speak to the lest of our family anymore, because we suppolted my blother. The Kikuta family is lenowned for discipline and skill, and my father's plide is not to be gone against."

"But how does your support for your brother change your skill? You are a teacher in the Academy, surely your father is proud of that?"

"My blother is even more skilled than I am. But my father is lodged in the tladitions of old Japan. Defying the head of your family is a severe clime. But we managed to inhelit our mother's stubbolnness and libelal views. She is part Kolean, part Chinese, part Mongolian and heaven knows what else, and she is as flexible and stlong as wax wood." A small, proud smile emerged on her face. "When my father oldered my blother to let go of 'these foolish feelings', she lose up and told him that if he thought love was a foolish feeling, she would leave his house to lelieve him from the plesence of these foolish feelings."

Draco laughed aloud with his teacher, ignoring the nagging sorrow clawing at his thoughts. The Sensei rummaged her magical sleeves once again and produced some delicious cookies to go with the tea.

"But now to business. Potter-san has left us on our own for a couple of days, so there is no use in doing normal lessons. I have been thinking, that this house in vely poor condition." Draco felt a grin creeping onto his face. "Would you care to join me, lefurbishing this house?"

"I would love to! And what makes it easier is that Potter has actually given me permission to decorate," Draco drawled with mischievous joy.

"Excellent! That will make things easier. I will not have to bypass the house's contlact. We can have our way with the whole house!" The Sensei's eyes sparkled with conspiring glee. Draco looked forward to the next few days. Potter was in for a surprise.

* * *

They began the next day after the morning exercises.

"We begin from the top, and wolk down," the Sensei informed Draco, "that way there will not be ploblems with the house contlact of ownership. Potter-san would not be happy to lose his house instead of just one loom."

"How do you actually do that?" Draco asked. "Turn a room under your control."

"Not telling you, Malfoy-san. I am not going to get kicked out yet," the Sensei deflated Draco's dream of having call over his room, but continued, "As I am alleady testing my boundalies by teaching you how to use magic without a wand."

Draco's eyebrows tried to jump over his forehead and his lips reached for his ears. "Really?"

"Yes. But don't get too excited, I forbid you to use it without my leave."

"But it still means I'm getting ahead of Potter?"

"Oh yes. There is always a punishment for unattending your tlaining. I was not going to teach either of you for a while, but I don't want to get bored in these few days."

Draco snickered. This was getting better all the time.

"Now, we have been doing a lot of exercises with the concept of enelgy, chi, have we not?"

"Yes." Draco enjoyed the circulation of energy that came with the meditation.

"I will let you in with a little seclet. This is actually what you call magic."

"Oh!"

"Do the exercise of extending the ring."

Draco closed his eyes and imagined the circle of energy flowing around his arms. Slowly parting his fingers, keeping in mind the flow.

"Imagine the enelgy to be a colour. Good. Now open your eyes."

Draco opened his eyes and there, between his fingers, a faint blue line stretched from one hand to other. He laughed aloud, but at that moment, the line vanished.

"What did you do wlong?"

"I- I lost concentration."

"Exactly. But now that you undelstand, we will go to the attic. Follow me."

Together they ascended the flights of stairs and entered the attic. It was gloomy and full of cobwebs and bat droppings and generally plain filthy. The Sensei flexed her shoulders and turned to Draco.

"First, we clean it up. I plefer to do this," she flicked her hand and a gust of wind swept the cobwebs off the beams, "but we each have a certain plefelence on doing things. I'll leave you to expeliment in this end," and she marched to the darkness of the other end. "And watch out for doxies and such."

Draco stood a while considering. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated to form a circle of energy. He opened his eyes, careful not to stop the flow. Squinting at the air where he knew the energy was, he thought he saw a blurring of the air. The faster he made the flow, the more evident the blur became. But how could he get the magic to clean for him?

The Sensei used a gust to get rid of the dirt, but as hard as Draco tried, he could not get he magic to do more than form little tornados between his hands that messed himself and things up worse than before. That had to be because of the circular movement of the magic. But he could not control the magic if he did not move it as a ring.

If he could control air with the ring, could he control other things? He thought of sparking the circle into flame, but then realized he would only set himself on fire, and probably the house too. Water was not present, and he did not have any idea of how to conjure water without a wand, so he gave up that idea.

What about more abstract things? There was dirt, the dirt had to go, what if he vanished it? But Vanishing Charms were already difficult with a wand, and there was know way he could decipher the trick for it without any help.

Summoning, Draco thought suddenly. Getting all the dirt into a pile would work. How to get the magic to pull the dirt in? He experimented by getting the circle to suck stuff in. It did work, and he watched as a small pile of dust, dead things and muck formed a small pile in the middle of the circle. But then the sucking stopped, and try what he did, he couldn't get any more dirt to move into the circle.

"Vely good Malfoy-san. You found the plactical way of doing it." Draco started and he ceased to try and suck in dirt, but he managed to keep the circle flowing. The Sensei stood next to him.

"That end is now clean," she said and Draco could see the wood shining in the other end of the attic. She looked down at the little pile of dirt and Draco blushed. He had only managed to realize how to do this.

"No, no, don't feel ashamed Malfoy-san. You have alleady made gleat plogless. You just have to lealize the last step to make it most effective. I will give you a clue. What do you suck into the circle?"

"Umm..dirt?"

"Did you focus on sucking in only dirt?"

"No."

"Then you were sucking evelything in, were you not? The house and me and yourself too. Lucky you didn't tly it any harder. But what all includes is also air. And air an also fill things, you know."

Draco understood, "So the centre of the ring was already filled full of air!"

"Yes. Move the air outside of the circle."

Draco concentrated on the air and it moved out in a great gush, scattering the dirt everywhere. He frowned, and made the air move out upwards. Suddenly there was a strong pull towards the circle and massive amounts of dirt came whizzing into the circle. Draco found himself almost hugging a pile of grime. He quickly broke the circle and stared.

"What was that?"

"When you take out air from a space, it becomes nothing. It is called a vacuum. The wold likes to keep itself in balance, so it lushes into fill that emptiness. And if you keep taking the air out, only things that are not air can fill it."

An annoyed screech from inside the massive pile of dirt, and the Sensei peered at it.

"And that includes doxies," she said and pulled out a struggling pest, which she put into a glass container that she returned into her sleeve.

"Now, what shall we do with all this dirt?" she said.

"Oh, I have an idea." Draco smiled, relishing the success.

**Pranayama is a technique used in e.g. yoga to control the energies of the body by more active breathing.**

**Mágua is the Chinese translation of Muggle. Má numb/paralysed and guamelon/gourd and by extension head/brain. Points to the Chinese translator of the Potters.**


	7. Chapter 6 Antonymes

**And at last there is a next chapter! Yay, and I'm actually feeling good about this, thanks to Noora again who did the unbelievable job of hunting down the mistakes and fed me with some positive commentary. If you think their is something wrong with it still, why don't you come and beta it yourself, EH?**

**Oh, and while I'm at it; PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not send me comments without any sense or brains. Ok, it is a good laugh, but the joke gets old after a while. There is no sense in asking me questions that are CLEARLY ones that shall be answered later in the fic (e.g. Why is Draco such an arsehole and what is he up to anyway? or Who is Sensei?). Really. I do love comments on the style and how it's written and questions about unclear parts and love notes and praise, but believe me, I am going to answer all the mystery in chapters to come. If not, THEN you can ask.**

**I'll be posting a FAQ (or an iFAQ (infrequently asked questions) if there is not enough questions) soon, if I have the time and energy. Secrets revealed and stories uncovered!**

**PS. Draco is written D-R-A-C-O not D-R-A-O-C. **

**6. Antonymes**

**Where Balance is discussed and approached by means of opposites**

_Harry stumbled into the kitchenweary and tired. He collapsed into the armchair, almost squashing Crookshanks, who shot off yowling onto Hermione's lap as she sat down by the table._

"_That was a mess," Ron groaned as he shuffled to look for something warm to drink._

"_Well, we did get the Cup," Hermione objected._

"_And in the process got every bloody Dementor in Britain to attack us! What a success! You-Know-Who must be getting a sniff about what we're doing. It was rather too unlucky that we just happened to bump into a horde of Dementors as we were closing in on a Horcrux."_

"_We did manage to get through it. Harry's training is proving to be quite useful; that Patronus was amazing!"_

"_Ron, can you find any hot chocolate?" Harry said weakly._

"_I'm trying, Harry. What really bugs me is that I still can't get my Patronus to work."_

"_You can't be good in everything Ron. You did…"_

"_Oh, Weasley is good in something then? Haven't seen that yet," came a drawl from the door. The three looked up to see Malfoy entering the room._

"_Shut up, Malfoy," Harry groaned._

"_You sure did return late," Malfoy ignored him._

"_You're still up," Hermione noted._

"_Oh, we got forgot the time with all the fun we were having with the major ballroom."_

"_We?" Hermione asked._

"_Sensei-san and me. But I have to say, the ballroom is smashing now. We found a great tapestry from under those terrible panels, and we took one of the walls down to make it into a window, and those chandeliers are amazing-"_

"_Why is the cocoa green?" came Ron's shout from the cupboard._

"_Because it's green tea, you moron," Malfoy replied. "If you're looking for the cocoa, it's in the big jar beside the fireplace."_

"_Who gave you the permission to mix up the kitchen?" Ron scowled as he trumped to the fireplace._

"_Well, I'm rather fond of hot chocolate myself, so I asked Molly if I could move into that big, unused jar that was in a rather useful position. Watch out, Weasley," he warned Ron._

"_For what?"_

"_For that hot milk that's floating over your head."_

"_What!" Harry and Hermione turned their heads and saw a massive jug flying through the air. It calmly moved next to the cocoa pot, which added some of its contents into the jug, and then set itself down to the table with a heavy thump. Some of the drink tried to spill out, but Malfoy made a quick movement with his fingers and it settled down._

"_Anyone else want some?" Malfoy asked calmly from the stunned three, and four cups bounced to the jug, ready to be filled._

"_When did you learn that?" Harry finally managed to ask._

"_Oh, I couldn't laze around while you ran about saving the world."_

"_But she said that there wouldn't be any lessons while I'm gone!"_

"_There weren't any lessons. We've been decorating. Surely you can't think everything waits for you? Drink your hot chocolate," Malfoy snapped at him, the cup practically trying to jump down Harry's throat. "You're deathly pale. Have you seen a Dementor or what?"_

_Harry grumbled and sipped his hot chocolate. Malfoy turned to Hermione._

"_We didn't do the library yet; we need you to be there to keep track of the books and think of a way to classify the books."_

_Hermione's eyes shined in the prospect. "Can I get a proper desk in there?"_

"_Anything you want." Malfoy smiled dazzlingly at her and gave her a cupful of the frothing drink. Ron glared at him, which Malfoy fully ignored and passed him a cup._

"_Oh, and Sensei-san kicked that ghoul out of that upstairs bathroom. She said he escaped into a cupboard of the Befuddled Room. Then we managed to move Mrs. Black's portrait into her old bedroom, took the whole morning, that did and she screamed her head off, until we managed to convince her that it was much more dignified to reside in her bedroom, like Cassiopeia does, and…"_

"_You got rid of the hag?" Ron jumped up and rushed to see. They could hear him whooping in the hallway, and Hermione rose to stop him before he woke up everyone._

_Harry drank his hot chocolate and rose to go to bed._

"_Manners, Potter, manners."_

"_Huh?"_

"_You didn't thank me for the hot chocolate."_

"_Thank you."_

"_You're welcome."_

_Harry looked at the other boy, who was smiling at him slyly over his mug. Harry had never seen Malfoy smile. Malfoy sneered or grinned evilly, he never smiled sincerely. Without the pureblood haughtiness and malice towards everyone else, he looked just like a normal person. A rather good looking normal person. _

"_Unbelievable, Malfoy!" Ron stormed into the room with Hermione on his trail. "That's amazing! That cow's been ruining the whole place for too long!"_

"_You're welcome, Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "I'll show you the refurbished rooms tomorrow. I'm going to bed."_

"_Good night, Malfoy," Hermione said._

"_Yeah, g'night, Malfoy!" Ron added._

"_Good night, Granger. Weasley."_

_Malfoy brushed past Harry, and just as the kitchen door closed, Harry thought he heard Malfoy saying, "Sweet dreams, Potter."_

* * *

  
"This place is _amazing_!" Weasley gushed as Draco showed them into the attic. Draco smiled proudly at the whitewashed walls and a sea of cushions covering the floor. It was certainly very pleasant. 

"Where did you get the pillows?" Granger asked.

"Sensei-san transfigured them from all the dust and dirt we got from cleaning this place up. I tried to get her move into Weasley's room, but she refused," Draco pouted playfully and sat down on a massive white pillow.

"Pillow-fight!" Weasley yelled and started throwing the cushions at Potter, who bounced them back at him with a circle of magic.

"No fair!" Weasley laughed as he was buried under a mass of brightly coloured pillows. "Show off!"

"I hate to admit it, but I agree with you, Weasley," Draco said. Potter had made quick progress that morning, learning the basics of Oriental magic in record time. "If I were you, Potter, which, thank Morgana I am not, I would not be so proud about being able to _-umph_!" He was cut off by a well-aimed pillow thrown by Potter.

"That was childish, Potter. Catching an innocent bystander!" And again he was interrupted by an avalanche of cushions.

"That does it, Potter! This is WAR."

A chilly silence filled the room. The cushions Draco had lifted with a burst of magic fell onto the floor with a dull thump. Draco blinked and cursed himself.

"Uh, um. You were going to show us the games room, Malfoy?" Granger piped in.

"Oh yes. Please, follow me."

* * *

"Today, we will not have lessons," Sensei informed the boys after their morning practices. 

"Why?" Potter frowned.

"I will assign you something that you could desclibe as a ploject. It will take today and tomollow. You will attend morning plactices, but otherwise there will be no martial arts tlaining. It will however take all of your time, so do not celeblate this as flee time."

"Sensei-san, excuse me?"

"Yes, Potter-san?"

"I will need to attend meetings of the Order today and tomorrow." Draco had noticed that the Order had suddenly accelerated its activity, an endless flow of members running around the house. He wondered what had happened, but was more interested in the redecoration of the smaller ballroom. The larger one was very classy, tapestries and chandeliers, so he was looking for something modern for the other one.

"It is your decision if you need to be plesent at them. I will not be supervising you."

This was a great surprise. During the few weeks they had spent with the Sensei, she had kept a close eye on the boys for a solid seven to ten hours every day, without exception.

"But as I just said it is not flee time. You will have completed today's assignment by this evening." As she poked her hands into her almighty sleeves to get something, she winced.

"Sensei-san, what is it?" Draco asked worriedly, "Are you not well?"

"I could call Madam Pomfrey, she's the mediwitch of the Order," Potter offered.

"No, no, it is allight. Thank you for your concern."

She pulled out a scroll and put it in front of her. "By this evening you will have filled this parchment with a list of diffelences between you two. Plefelably things that you are opposites in. All points must be agleed on by both of you." Draco smirked; this would be easy.

"Questions? Good." She lifted off the floor and flew out through the door still on her knees and followed by her shoes.

"I wonder what's wrong; she acted as if she hurt every time she moved," Draco voiced his concern.

"Well, there's no way you can find out, she's as tightly shut as clam." Potter reached for the parchment. "This'll be easy. As if we aren't the opposites in everything."

"Exactly my thoughts Potter. For starters, you're a git and I am not."

"I am not."

"You are too.

"Well, if I am, then so are you."

"Hah."

"And besides we have to both agree."

Draco glared at Potter whose face was set in a determined frown.

"You are such a stubborn moron."

"Am not."

After fifteen minutes of similar fighting Draco slumped on his back and stared at the ceiling. After the reminder Draco unwittingly provided in the attic, the two of them had been on very cold terms. One step forward, two steps back, Draco thought to himself.

"This isn't going anywhere."

"Have to agree with you on that."

"I wonder if we have to stay in here."

"What?"

"She didn't forbid us leaving the room."

"Good idea, for once, Malfoy." Potter stood up.

"Where're you going?"

"We are continuing this in a more comfortable place."

"That is?"

"Well, you provided us a lovely space in the attic." Draco was surprised, that Potter proposed the attic after what happened. "And if our argument is going to get physical, you'll get much less hurt when hitting the pillows than the tatami."

"Oh, you have no chance of that, Potter! I've seen your throws before, and there is no chance I could be thrown down with them."

"Maybe I'll just knock you out with a well-aimed kick!" Potter was already out of the room and Draco hurried after him.

"You'll be down before you have time to do that if my fist has any say in it!"

* * *

When it came time for lunch, they hadn't progressed much. Granger insisted on seeing their list as they ate and almost choked on her mashed potatoes as she read it. 

"What?" Potter asked.

"'Malfoy has long toes and Potter has short toes,'" she read out. "'Potter does not know how to tie a necktie and Malfoy does.' And this proves you're opposites?"

"How did you get to discussing neckties anyway?" Weasley snickered.

"Had to get something down," Potter muttered.

"Oh, Kikuta-san will be so impressed by 'Potter has dark hair and Malfoy has light hair'."

"What should we have there then, Miss Right Answers?" Draco threw at her.

"Like well, doesn't your magic revolve different ways? I mean that circle thing. If I'm right Harry's circle goes around anti-clockwise and yours in the other way around."

"Is that true, Potter?" Draco asked, gritting his teeth for not noticing himself.

"Yeah! 'Mione, you're amazing," Potter praised her as he scribbled it down.

"I just keep my eyes open and wits about," she answered smugly. "But really, you should go deeper than just looks. Things about your personalities and who you are."

"What about Malfoy's on the Dark side and Harry's the one who'll kill You-Know-Who."

"Shut it, Ron, that was out of order." Granger snapped just before Draco got a chance to.

"And what do you know about my standing?" Draco quietly added.

"I know you almost killed Dumbledore!"

"That's enough, Ron!" Potter hit the table. Draco's eyebrows tried to shoot through the roof in surprise. Protected by Chosen One against the Weasel Sidekick was quite something.

"Well, sorry for having a well-informed opinion," Weasley muttered and pushed his chair back. "I'll be in the games room if anything comes up."

"Sorry, Malfoy. He just really doesn't get it."

"Forget it, Potter, you don't have to apologize for anything."

"Well, I'll thank you for that chessboard you found. We don't have to bother trying to play against him to calm him," Granger said.

"Yeah, at least the board has a chance against him, unlike anybody else in this house." Potter grinned.

"Never played against me," Draco said. "That would be good for the list, 'Potter loses against Weasley in chess and Malfoy does not."

"There is no way you can beat him, Malfoy. He once went against McGonagall, who was the reigning queen in Hogwarts, and he wiped the board with her."

"I guess that's a lost game then," Draco sighed.

"Literally," Granger told him. "By the way, I finished the classification of the books this morning. Care to help me arrange the books into the new shelves?"

"That reminds me I haven't seen the library yet," Potter said. "I think it's fair that the Master of the Black House knows what's going on."

"The Master of the House will roll his sleeves and help then," Granger poked him. "Do we need Kikuta-san, Malfoy?"

"I think I can handle the modifications now. And Sensei-san didn't seem to be well today, so we better not bother her."

* * *

Draco rolled his sleeves up and admired his work. The shelves were made from kamagong, an extremely rare species of ebony that had not been available in these quantities since the Philippine government started regulating its export. Draco was quite sure the Blacks had done a little black market business they were famous for to get these. The repaired and polished shelves were now complimented by dark forest green carpeting and beautiful leather armchairs matching the ones in the games' room next door, scattered here and there.

Each chair had its own reading-lamp peeking over the shoulder, so that the rest of the library could be left in a dim lighting that emphasized the books bound in black leather and their golden letters. Draco sighed with pleasure and drew a deep breath of the warm, dry library air that whispered of knowledge and secrets.

"Finished with this section!" Draco called Granger.

"Already? You're fast!" She poked her head to see the neatly arranged rows of books classified as 1.101 or more easily 'Books on Charms written in the 18th and 19th centuries'. "Next pile is 1.102."

"That is?"

"Charms written in the 20th century."

"You are charmingly logical, Granger."

"The studying of Charms made a huge leap in the 20th century. There's no sense putting them with the earlier ones." She took Draco to the hill of books he was to sort. "There's not much, as the Blacks seemed to have forgotten their literal hobbies as of late. Give it some empty space though, it'll fill up."

"Yeah, as soon as you manage to convince McGonagall that it is vital to have a budget of ten thousand Galleons for the Order library."

"We do need the latest information! Knowledge is power and I had to return most of the books I borrowed form Hogwarts now that the semester begun."

Draco stopped what he was doing and looked up. He hadn't realized that school had started.

"It's nice that the board decided to keep Hogwarts running." Potter slumped into a comfy leather armchair.

"Over half of the students aren't attending this year though," Granger said. "Parents want to keep their kids close these days."

"Idiots, as if Hogwarts still isn't one of the safest places in Britain."

"Dumbledore dead and one Death Eater invasion does not assure them too much."

"Luckily that gives McGonagall some more time with the Order."

With a gentle movement of his wrist Draco flew the books to their designated shelves and followed them quickly. The conversation was moving towards dangerous grounds.

"Malfoy." Draco spun around to see Granger standing at the end of the aisle.

"You know you'll have to face it sooner or later. You did what you did, but after that you made a good decision.Most of the Order recognise it was not your fault. We know more than you think we know."

Draco balled his fingers into a fist.

"I don't hate you, Draco," she said quietly. Draco looked up and saw her wearing a shy, but friendly smile.

"Thanks…Hermione."

"I think you'll turn out just fine." She turned around to go. "Thanks for the help, but you'd better get that assignment done."

"Any time. I'll go hunt Potter down."

* * *

Back in the attic Draco sat into his favourite white cushion. Potter moved a big pile of cushions and sank into them. They eyed each other nervously. Draco frowned at the silence that lowered itself between them, but he couldn't open his mouth to break it. Potter did, eventually.

"We have to get this done."

"I know."

"Umm… What about the fact that I don't have parents and you do?"

Draco started at Potter's first move. Bloody Gryffindors and their brave, idiotic forwardness.

"Actually… that does not apply anymore."

"Sorry?"

"My mother is dead and my father is as good as dead in Azkaban."

"Your mother, what?!"

"Dead. Since. June. End of discussion, next point."

"How?"

"Read my lips, Potter. Murdered. Now get out of my face."

Draco hid his face in his hands and drew deep gulps of air. Bloody Potter, never had any manners, any sensitivity, any wits, bloody Potter, always going into the things he is not supposed to go in…

"Erm, Malfoy, I'm...I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I bet you are. As if you aren't happy that you got rid of the 'Pure-Blood bitch who looked like she had something disgusting under her nose'?! I said, back off."

"No, really. I'm sorry you lost your mother."

Draco snorted, but peered through his fingers at Potter. He was practically squirming in his anguish. Embarrassed too, by the look of his face.

"I don't need pity, Potter, so don't give me any. Got it?"

Potter nodded.

"And don't you dare tell others. Please."

"Would you… like to talk about it?"

"NO. Potter, you ignorant moron, don't you know when to stop?"

"I'm a Gryffindor."

"Oh, yeah, forgot that." Draco emerged from behind his hands and stared at Potter in astonishment. He was actually throwing jokes (and good ones too).

"Who forgot to teach you manners when you were a child?"

"You do not want to go into that." Potters face tightened into a fierce scowl.

"I think you owe me." Draco just tried; he had no hope it would actually work. But Potter turned away, drew a deep breath and started to talk in a blank voice.

"I was raised by my aunt and uncle. They…they… well, I don't know about manners, but I did live in a cupboard under the stairs and do most of the housework."

"You're lying."

"You don't have to believe it."

"The Boy Who Lived? Under the stairs?"

"My relatives hate everything that relates to magic in any way, and tried to squish the magic out of me. They aren't very fond of me and could not care less if I was Jesus Christ himself. I get toothpicks and socks for presents."

"And you still defend Muggles? After they treated you like that!" Draco was horrified. He had known Muggles were below wizards, but they were this cruel?

"Malfoy, my relatives are not typical Muggles. There are wizards that aren't too nice either, you know?"

"Keeping a child with magical abilities in a _cupboard_? Forcing them to do all the _housework_? To _suppress_ his talent? Not only are they cruel and sadistic, but they are imbeciles!" Draco was not listening.

"Calm down, Malfoy! Malfoy! Oi! Earth to blonde pureblood git!"

"Potter, how could you stand it? Why didn't you blast them or... squash them or…"

"I didn't know I was a wizard until I was eleven!"

"They didn't tell you you were a wizard?"

"Oh Merlin." Potter sank into his pile of cushions. Draco gradually got over his shock.

"Well, at least we got some points for the list," Potter said.

"I thought you were skinny when I saw you that day at Madam Malkin's!"

"You remember that day?"

"Of course I do!" Draco would probably never forget that day. The thin, shy boy and his enormous glasses, standing beside Draco getting their robes fitted on. How disappointed Draco had been when he had ran off so soon. He was just about to suggest him to try on the lovely green robes that Malkin's had received on just the same day.

"Do you remember what you said?"

"Why? I talked about going to Hogwarts, didn't I? Something about Hagrid, probably bit rude, considering what I had been told about him…"

"You said that kids that come from Muggle families shouldn't be let in. Kids that didn't know about Hogwarts before they got the letter."

"Oh…oh!"

"Yes, Malfoy. I had just heard there even was something called magic, let alone about being the Boy Who Lived."

Draco sunk into a thoughtful silence.

"Got a quill?"

"Huh? I mean, excuse me?"

"A quill? I broke the one I had before."

"Yeah, I got this from my room. It's Ever-Filled, don't dip in that bottle, Potter!"

"Well, I'm sorry! How should I know?"

"Look at the design! The stem is thicker than normal quills and actually, Potter, before you continue scrawling, let go of the quill and let it write on its own. It can do it by itself."

"We don't all know the secrets of quills," Potter muttered darkly.

"Concentrate or the quill will write garble. On a second thought, let me do it."

Draco summoned the parchment and quill to sit beside his cushion.

"So what were we going to write?"

"Well, you lived in a mansion as a child, and I in a cupboard under the stairs."

"And you had to dothe housework and I didn't."

"You always knew you were a wizard and I was told only just before I started Hogwarts."

Draco squinted at the script the quill was scribbling away magically.

"Something wrong?"

"Oh no, no, Potter. Let's continue."

Draco grinned inwardly. The quill copied perfectly Potter's hand. Draco was sure he would find that useful in one way or another.

* * *

That night Draco had a lot to think about. He had hated Potter for so long with such vigour that he had never stopped to think about it really. Potter always got everything Draco wanted, got away with anything and everybody loved him.

It was always Potter this and Potter that, Potter saves the day at last. Draco had always been jealous of him. And that angered him even more. Malfoys didn't need to be jealous. Malfoys were to be jealous of. But Potter, he broke the rules and got away with it.

But remembering back to that day when he had first met that scrawny boy with tussled up hair and a scared look in his eyes, Draco found himself hoping that he would have been brought up to be a nicer person.

Maybe he would have gotten a share of what Potter had, like Weasley and Granger.


	8. Chapter 7 Synonymes

**AND WE ARE HERE. This was ready like AGES ago, but I got really annoyed with how short it was (like under half the words of the previous chapter), so I tried to go over it again, but these two gits (Harry & Draco) are bloody too stubborn and just can't get things on a roll. I'll get Sensei to shout at them soon. **

**But, as a bonus, I give you the iFAQ! with multiple personalities and IBeta, it is guaranteed to answer your existing and non-existent questions, confuse you a little further and just mainly do a poor job of entertaining you with crappy, inside jokes.  
**

**7. Synonymes**

**Where Balance is discussed by means of similarities**

"Hermione!"

"What is it, Draco?"

"What is this?!" Draco shoved her a picture of a dark room with bright lights and people apparently dancing.

"Err…a advertisement for a disco? Why?"

"It's some kind of Muggle thing? Bother, I should have guessed."

"It's a Muggle club for dancing. Where did you find that?"

"It was lying around in the kitchen. I'm planning the decoration of the smaller ballroom and I thought this looked nice."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, but did not comment.

Draco was helping her with the last unplaced books in the library. Potter had been called in for some emergency meeting, so Draco had to wait for the saviour to come and finished today's assignment.

"So… what's today's exercise?"

"Opposite of yesterday's," Draco sulked and poked at some books to get them to arrange themselves by date and author.

"Similarities between you and Harry?"

"Exactly. I cannot imagine what she hopes to reach by these assignments."

Hermione walked of down an aisle with her wand leading the way for a battalion of books.

"But you can be sure there is a reason, Draco!" came a shout from behind the shelves.

"But what can it be?"

"Maybe she wants the two of you to get to know each other."

"Why? There is absolutely no reason for me to get to know that insufferable git!"

"You're talking about my best friend, Draco!"

"Sorry. But really, it is not as if anything will change if Potter and I know each others deepest secrets."

"Maybe. But you have to see each other every day for training. Maybe she got bored watching you two fight and contest over which one of you is better. How far did you get before Harry had to go for the meeting?"

"Very well. We are both boys, we are both wizards, we are both training to learn Oriental Magic, we are living under the same roof, we are…"

"At least you didn't say you both have toes. Really, Draco, didn't you learn anything from yesterday?"

"That Potter is a bloody, blunt headed, insensitive git, who does not know when to stop."

"Why, what did he do?"

"Nagged me on about my mother."

"Oh, that."

"Couldn't keep his mouth shut then?"

"Harry has to tell us, Draco. Harry, Ron and I are a team. And you haven't been very informative."

"I just love how Weasley gets to know all my secrets."

"Look, Draco, you can't keep carrying that kind of weight around."

"It's not like you care about my mother enough to have the right to hear about her death."

"I care about you, Draco."

"You are one ignorant fool, Granger."

"You know, you aren't as nasty as you think you are."

"I know you are fogged by your unwise Gryffindor goodwill."

"No real insult there." Draco glared at Hermione trying to keep the threatening, embarrassing tears away. "Draco. Harry is probably one of the best people to understand your loss. He has never got over the loss of his parents, and knowing him, he'll never will."

"But he can't even remember them! The Dark Lord killed them when he was a year old!"

"That's Harry for you. It will be easier once it is out, believe me."

* * *

Draco thought about the conversation as he sat opposite Potter. 

"We both have a grudge against the Dark Lord."

"Excuse me?" Potter was shocked out of his wits, Draco thought pleased.

"If I have not missed something, neither of us counts the Dark Lord in our closest friends, and actually we are both on his kill list currently. You still have the honour of first place, but I like to think that I'm rather high up myself." Draco looked at Potter who was looking like a fish on dry land. "Pull yourself together, Potter, for Merlin's sake. It's not as if you needed a genius to solve that."

"So… Voldemort killed your mother, because you failed to kill Dumbledore?"

"Congratulations, you made that connection quicker than I thought you would. And he was quite ready to kill Snape and me too; blowing Snape's cover was not part of the orders."

"So you ran?"

"Indeed. I'm sick and tired of being controlled."

"Write down that we both are."

"I'll put it down after the part where it says 'neither of us has parents'."

"But, Malfoy, your father is alive."

"Good as dead in Azkaban, thanks to you."

"He's the one who walked into the Ministry."

"Look, Potter, there is no way I'm going to forgive you. He walked in there because of you. Even if I am not very happy about him, messing things up so spectacularly, he is my father and the fact is that he was there to get you and you ruined it."

"Oh, and what should have I done thrown my hands up in the air and let he kill me and my friends? He is a Death Eater, Voldemort's bloody follower who probably has vowed to kill me!"

"You, you, you, it is always about you, isn't it?"

"Do you actually think that I want that? Do you actually think I'm happy with it?"

"And you don't like how people always know who you are, and how they admire you and how you always get away with everything?"

"No!"

"Well, aren't you the hero?"

"I don't want to be the hero! I just want to be normal!" Draco blinked at Potters fury. He had forgotten Potter could do that; he had been so quiet. "But as long as I have this bloody scar, this bloody mark of Voldemort's, I will never, ever be normal. I will never have peace!"

Draco blinked. "Why do you want to be normal? Everyone wants to be special."

"If I could give this scar to you, I wouldn't have to think for one second. Malfoy, would you actually want to be this 'special', would you _want_ to be cursed with this position every bleeding second of your life? Would you_ like _waking up every night to the fact that you are the one who will end this War, and because you can't get it finished soon enough, _people are DYING! _Oh, and I forgot, before you wake up there are the nightmares, which are a real bonus."

A long silence stretched itself out between them.

"You never thought about that, did you?"

"No, I didn't." Draco was suddenly feeling that his world was toppling around again and again and again and it wouldn't stop, because the world was going the wrong way. The wrong, wrong, wrong way.

"Mind answering me a question?"

"Sure."

"Why don't you have a Mark? I mean, you showed something to Borkins to intimidate him that day in Knockturn Alley?"

"What? Oh, err, it was a Probation Mark, it's something the Dark Lord tried out on me and… Potter, were you there?"

"Err…yes?"

"Blazing hell! Thank Morgana, I didn't know you were that close on my trail."

"I heard Snape talking to you once and then I was there on the roof, too."

"On that night?"

"My Invisibility Cloak."

"Ah. That's why you all know that much."

"And actually, that's why you are here. Dumbledore promised you a safe haven. We had to give you one."

Potter looked at Draco who was staring into midair trying to gain control. As if through a haze Draco noticed Potter fidgeting nervously at a curiously fast pace. He didn't catch the word Potter said, scrambled and jagged. Draco tilted his head and he felt dizzy. The floor flipped over and he fell-

"Malfoy!"

"Potter, don't shout into my ear."

"You're awake!"

"No, I'm dead."

"It's alright, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley. He's awake now."

"Potter, what did you do? Call the whole Order to gawk at me?"

"You fainted, Malfoy, I just asked them to come help."

"I don't need help."

"Lucky we didn't call Madam Pomfrey then, isn't it?"

Draco rose up and stretched. Hermione and Molly were just walking in.

"It's alright, really, I'm just a little tired," he assured them.

"Dinner is in just half an hour. Maybe you could take a break until then?"

"How are we doing with the list?" Draco turned towards Potter, who lifted it from the floor.

"About five inches to go."

"We'll get that in no time. I'm hungry, what do we have for dinner?" Draco asked Molly as he lifted off the floor.

"I'm trying out a noodle recipe I found."

"Sounds good," Draco smiled at her.

Potter stayed behind, rooted to the spot, Draco noticed as he looked back.

"Come on now, Potter. You could do with some food."

Potter shivered as Draco swept his eyes over Potter's wiry frame. Draco felt his face starting to pull into a grin, but he quickly restrained himself and almost fled down the stairs.

* * *

**iFAQ**

NYAHAHHAHA. NYAHHAHAHHAHAHA. Err yes, so now I will be separating my personality in two, though maybe it has always been two, and now there are three and then MY PRECIOUS, we shall….

Rule the world and…

Yeah. You get the point.

I've had comments from three people, and only one question I find interesting enough to answer, so let's get that one done first.

**Torigirl asked:** if malfoy is so desperate why is he being so rude about not telling the story?

**Answ.** Would be that he is Malfoy. Malfoy is a little defensive about stuff. Malfoy needs to relax(/shag). And thanks for the sweet, positive comment. Loved that!

And then to the schizophrenic part! Yay!

**Q. **What is a iFAQ? And hell, why are you/I doing this.

**Answ. **inFrequently Asked Questions. I was writing this chapter and when I got to the part where Draco checks Harry out I found myself at the end. Couldn't write past it, so I thought I could throw this in as a bonus.

**Q.** Why on earth did you/I start to write this?

**Answ**. I went on sick leave from school due to erm… mental problems I guess (mainly just tired of everything, but that's the label you get 3) and then I thought I could do something to improve myself, so I thought, ooh H/D fic! The prologue had been ready for quite some time, can't remember when or why I did that, so I just took it up and started from there.

What I've been suspecting for a while is that my real mental problem is actually writing H/D…

**Q**. So have you improved your/myself?

**Answ. **Oh hell yeah. …Like in… eerr. Well at least my dear lovely beta tells me my grammar is getting better (and that by the end of this, I won't need her to check my works, but that won't be happening, as I'm the queen of typ0s) Oh, and I'm rather proud of the literary elements that have been popping up by themselves. And writing is always good practice.

**Q.** What colour pants did Harry get Draco?

**Answ.** PINK of course.

**Q.** Really?

**Answ.** No. And they weren't silk, if that's the next question you/I want to ask.

**Q**. What pattern where they?

**Answ**. Little leopards dancing with giraffes, OR NOT. Move on.

**Q.** Where is Ginny?

**Answ**. Good question! Only one who has asked that too! It'll come up sooner or later (Christmas holiday) as she is in school, Hogwarts, and before semester started she was... not interested Draco. What do you mean I'm patching up?

**Q.** Did Draco read the children's books already?

**Answ.** Oh yes, many times and with relish.

**Q.** When will Draco renovate his own room?

**Answ.** Did already. I just haven't found an excuse to flash it around yet.

**Q.**

**Answ.**

**Q.**

**Answ.** Ohhh you can't think of anything anymore can you?

**Q.** Hungry. End of iFAQ

**Answ**. You think you're smart now, don't you? You've been reading too much One Piece. But, I guess this is it. Send me some questions, if you want answers, and if you don't want answers, don't question. We shall be back, precious!


	9. Chapter 8 Truth

**And here it is. Next chapter has a lot done already, problem is I have gotten into a major writing depression, and I really don't like the direction it is going. It's going so fast, and suddenly Draco and Harry aren't so hm perfect as they were. Major doubts about stuff, so might take a while to get the next chapter up. Hopefully I will get over this melancholy soon and manage to get the whole plot line out before the Hallows are released. And not get annoyed with the whole of it and stop writing.  
**

**8. Truth**

**Where Truth and Theory of Magic is discussed and two conscious' find each other**

Sitting down on the tatami, hands in his lap, back straight eyes closed, one breath in, one breath out. A pure silence; came a sluggish thought to Draco, which sparked another: No, not a pure silence, there are three people, and a person is full of sounds. Sounds; travelled the thought to another. The sound of air moving into the lungs, past the resting vocal cords, into the two cavities, stretching out. The sound of the heart pumping its time-honoured beat of life, sending blood into the roads of the body, to obtain the air that has entered and to take it to it's designated destination. The gush of blood rushing, the small sounds of life, forever circulating, in and out.

What made it happen so?

Why does everything go around in circles? In and back again, out and back again?

Does everything go in circles?

Moving constantly to keep the world in balances.

* * *

"We shall now discuss the assignments you have completed." The Sensei had all the strict energy she had been lacking for the past two days, and Draco had a scary feeling she was going to make up for the slack very soon.

"First of all, I am not at all happy. You have not truly thought about the assignments. You should be ashamed of yourselves, not being able to coopelate. Childish!" Draco had to gather all his Malfoy pride to keep from cringing like Potter did. McGonagall was all-loving and compassionate compared to Sensei.

"Why did I give you this assignment, Malfoy-san?" Draco almost scuttled when the Fires of Anger turned to regard him and he cleared his voice not to squeak.

"To get Potter and me to know each other?"

"Exactly, wise of you to listen to Glanger-san! Potter-san, why do you need to know each other?" Potter did a squeak.

"To get along?"

"Plecisely! But you are not tlying hard enough, neither of you! And Malfoy-san, don't you dare defy me!" Draco winced.

The Sensei then sighed and suddenly the Hell Fire that had burned the room shrank back into some furnace she must be hiding in her sleeve. "Maybe I will tell you my leasons of taking Malfoy-san to tlain beside Potter-san.

"When I first came to this house, I saw this house was mourning. One of the things I despise most is the incapability to respect a deceased one and move on ploperly. This house needed a kick at its head at the vely least. What I found was better, as you Malfoy-san were alleady here, just waiting for a little push. Of course I had other leasons than dislupting the house. Immediately I knew that Potter-san would learn best, when he felt he was challenged, and Malfoy-san is a perfect antagonist."

Draco didn't know if he was allowed to proudly smirk at this point, but he did it anyway. Potter certainly would not have learnt as quickly without the little push Draco provided.

"Then there was the most intliguing factor. You two are a lare pair of almost perfect opposing forces. And no, not in the sense of eternal enemies as you like to think yourself, but in the way of Yin and Yang as you have learned. Opposites that compliment each other and yet are of the same. Vely lare indeed." Draco had a bad feeling where this was going.

"The world is in an eternal flow of balancing itself, as you have gladually started to sense. Magic is the energy that flows, and it flows in such a way to create an equiliblium. There is a theoletical debate out if the world is ever in perfect symmetly or just tlavelling an eternal path towards is, but whatever the answer to that debate is, the fact is that this world is made up of similalities and dissimilalities and there is a flow that moves them to keep them in balance.

"All people form their own twist into that flow, and the greater that voltex is, the gleater is that persons power in magic. There are times when some of these voltexes glow big and influential, warping the genelal flow. Luckily, when these powerful voltexes appear another one appears to balance it out."

"Voldemort and Dumbledore," Potter suddenly murmured.

"Vely good, Potter-san."

"But Dumbledore was killed," Potter continued.

"Oh yes. And this is where the two of you come in. It sometimes happens that two voltexes are the same except they are opposite. They are equal, and yet they the leverse of each other. It is theorized that every vortex has an contladicting pair, but it is very lare for these two vortexes to be found close to each other. These two will then start feeding on each other, competing and glowing their skills against each other.

"It is not very effective, not until they receive proper training. Are you familiar with the equation of one and three make two but two and two make four?"

Draco nodded; it was one of the basic principle of Arithmancy.

"Please explain to Potter-san."

"It basically explains the result of adding two magical energies together. It is one of the fundamental laws of Magical Theory," Draco related from a textbook precisely. "If you have two magical energies of which one is weaker than the other the result is an energy that is an average of the two energies begun with. However, if two equal energies are added the result is the multiplied product of the original powers. Example: Two magical energies are shown as powers of two and eight, and when they are added, the resulting energy is a power of five. Second example: Two magical energies of the power of say three and three result in an energy of the power of nine."

"Very good, Malfoy-san. Do you follow, Potter-san?"

"Yes, Sensei."

"The assignments were designed to let you yourself notice this, but as the two of you are stupid as two blickwalls, I now have to explain it to you, which is always wolse than finding it out by yourselves but we are under a schedule so no can do.

"So according to this law, these two voltexes, though the opposite each other, can under ploper guidance manifest to become a power much greater than the enelgy of voltexes themselves originally. When this has been completed the two are known as isshindoutai, which tlansalates as being one in body and soul or kinshitsusouwa that is two people, also used of married couples, being intimate and harmonious. When the two voltexes are guided into not fighting eachother--"

"Excuse me, but WHAT THE HELL?" For once Draco agreed with Potter's rude outbreak.

"I beg your pardon, Potter-san, what is the source of your bewilderment?"

"Me and Malfoy? To become one in body and soul? A _married _couple!!!"

"Oh, no no. You do not have to be married, it is just an expression, Potter-san."

"One in _body and soul?"_

"It can also tlanslate as 'of one flesh' and 'two hearts beating as one'…"

"But what does that _mean_?"

"Potter, you cannot have such a dirty imagination," Draco sneered though he had to admit he was getting freaked out of his mind.

"It only lefers to the ability of sensing the other as almost one own body, a vely useful ability when fighting as a pair."

"I don't want Malfoys body!" Potter was flipping major time.

"I find you very attractive too, Potter, thanks."

"No, Potter-san, you are mistaken," Sensei was quite at loss with Potter's sudden rampage, "you will just be able to sense the others body and intentions of movement, I assure you, you will be quite in contlol of yourselves."

"I will not give Malfoy any hold over my body or even my intentions!" Potters eyes were doing gymnastic moves, trying to find an escape.

"Potter, are you actually listening anymore?"

"Maybe it is time for lunch, Malfoy-san?" Sensei coolly ignored the Boy Who Lived With No Brain.

"I quite agree with you, Sensei."

* * *

Weasley did not take the news any better than Potter. Their duo rampage showed was a big contribution to the proof for the theory of two magical forces combined. Draco made things only worse, so he just sulked at his portion of salad that was Molly's latest attempt to reduce fattiness, trying to find sense in this new prospect the Sensei saw so important.

Hermione had practically burst with excitement when she had finally understood what the fuss was all about, and now she had her hands full of trying to make her two best friends calm down and understand the bright sides. Draco would certainly like to know what they were.

"-look, Harry, get a grip yourself. You are enormously powerful just by yourself, think what you and Draco could reach together--"

"Hell, together, 'Mione! Are you out of your mind? And besides Harry could beat the Ferret blindfolded with one hand, as if they could be as powerful!"

"Well, I can't see what your afraid then if you are so certain it won't work!"

"Hermione," Potter frothed, "the problem is the 'of one flesh' part! How could I bond with such an, an annoying, poncy--"

"Really, Potter, your are in denial and secretly lust after me," Draco couldn't help himself commenting.

"As if Harry would want to have anything to do with a slimy, murdering git like you, Ferret!" The Weasel jumped in as his role of a Keeper.

"Ronald Weasley! Sit down and keep your mouth closed!" Hermione smouldered. Draco amusedly ranked her even scarier than McGonagall, giving her the second place for The Most Intimidating Women Competition. Sensei was still secure with her trophy though.

"Being paired up with Malfoy! Someone up there hates me!" Potter groaned.

"Harry, you can't put up with this, you don't need Malfoy, you can take on You-Know-Who without the nuisance! Actually, you would beat You-Know-Who much better without him, he would just betray--!" A dark shadow settled over the boy.

"That is quite enough shouting in my kitchen, Ronald Weasley." Thunder rolled between the basement walls. "If you are going to continue, pray do it somewhere far away from me."

"But mum!"

"No buts, and that includes you, Harry!"

Draco shivered and made a careful adjustment of tying Sensei and Molly Weasley on first place.

* * *

With the help of Molly's discipline, Hermione forced Draco and Potter to finally come to an understanding that they would at least try it out. Sensei was very much pleased.

"We will now begin to plactise aunnokokyuu, the plocess harmonizing the two of you mentally and physically." Potter's jaws flexed aggressively at this. "Potter-san, do contlol yourself! Plepare yourself for a meditation exelcise."

Draco drew a deep breath in with his pancreas as he had been taught and systematically got rid of all the apprehension. He easily slipped into the trance, welcoming the pure peace that he found in that state. He was once again aware of the steady flow of energy all around him. The now gentle, instructing voice of the Sensei reached him as behind thick cloth.

"Now, let yourself expand your consciousness, embrace the flow and feel its paths."

Draco stretched out and revelled at the overwhelming power that surrounded him. It smoothly circulated around him, touching him and then moving onwards ever onwards. The pathways were rounded, gently curving around the world and Draco.

It also curved around what seemed to be other two presences. Curious, Draco towards them, and found that the other was almost a whirlpool with its vivacious force, a sudden heightened pace among the patient stride of the flow. The other was more silent, comfortably fitting into the flow, almost camouflaged. Draco suddenly recognised that this presence was more experienced than the swift one; it had found its one place in the world and adjusted itself into it, content, yet extremely influential with its deep roots.

The swift one thrashed around occasionally, testing its boundaries and strength, unsure and maybe a little frightened. But it was strong, stronger than the older one, and its vortex warped the whole stream of the flow, changing the paths of the flow. Draco found himself a little wary of the younger one it was unpredictable, ready to explode at any moment.

Turning back to the elder, more stable eddy he closed in to inspect it further.

_:Very good Malfoy-san._

Draco jumped and opened his eyes

The Sensei kneeled before him her eyes open as she always did when meditating.

"Tly again, Malfoy-san," she instructed.

Warily Draco sank back into the calm and let his breathing fall back into the soothing rhythm. He looked around in the flow again, easily finding the elder vortex. He noticed the younger one was stretching out, as it exploring. Draco suddenly understood it was Potter and sniggered at the others slower progress.

_Never was much good in meditation, was he? _

_:Potter-san does his best, Malfoy-san. It just happens to be that your best in meditation is very good._

Draco managed to keep himself in the meditative state.

_:You can talk in this state?_

_:More like exchange thoughts. Feelings and intentions conveyed through the Flow. It feels like talking, but there is no language in what you receive. Your consciousness interprets the thoughts. But when I send you something you do not have a word for, you will notice that it is not speech, such as this._

A half-feeling, half-image came to Draco of a skin of sharp, prickly, yet inside soft and loving. Draco gathered that it was an attribute of a person, but he couldn't quite come to a grasp it fully.

_:This is only possible in a meditative state?_

_:Do you mean this way of communicating? You have to be precise in what you describe or the other cannot see your meaning._

_:Yes, I mean that._

_:It requires a more defined state of mind to make a connection strong enough to communicate with another, but talented and well practised wizards are capable of it, yes. If you are bonded enough with another person, it will be easier. If Potter-san and you will succeed, it should become quite easy for you to reach each other's thoughts, especially in trance. Try reaching him now._

Draco felt a sprout of glee. If he was startled by hearing the Sensei's thoughts, what would Potter do when he was suddenly reached by Draco?

_:Hello, Potter, _he sent toward the feisty vortex. It withdrew in surprise and Draco grinned. Potter did manage to stay in the meditative state, however, and soon an inquisitive thought reached Draco.

_:Curious, aren't we?_ Draco contacted him again.

_:Malfoy?_

_:Yes, Potter. You are quite slow, you know, I have already had an extensive conversation with Sensei about the joys of conversing with thoughts._

Draco received a feeling of sudden understanding.

_:You know of this?_

_:Muggles imagine._

_:What? Think clearer, Potter._

_:Muggles have been playing with the idea for long._

_:Have they indeed? You will have to tell me what they call it, as sending thoughts back and forth is hardly a good term for it._

_:But you said it just there?_

_:Potter, you understood what I said as such. Your consciousness interpreted the thoughts I sent to you._

_:This is not talking?_

_:No, it is exchanging thoughts._

_:Is that other vortex Sensei?_

_:It is._

_:I wonder what my vortex looks like._

_:A massive, uncontrolled whirlpool, swirling with too much force and unsettling the whole Flow. …What about me?_ Draco sent before he could stop himself.

_:Exactly fitted into the Flow, but the centre revolving tenfold faster than the sides. Extremely controlled and powerful. _Draco was pleased indeed to find out he did not look weak.

* * *

"You know, when you don't have to hear what Malfoy's mouth produces, he is very nice."

"I am not, Potter."

"No really, the content behind the wording is not nasty at all."

Draco scoffed and dug into his chicken breast. It was the two days after the first contact, and the two apprentices had done rapid progress, and a lot of talking too, as telepathy (the word Potter taught Draco) was an extremely fast way of communicating, due to the skipping of the physical steps of conversation.

"So the Ferret squeals worse than it bites, eh?"

"You want to try, Weasel?"

"Draco, if you could develop a better relationship with Ron as fast as you do with Harry, you might actually be friends some time," Hermione suggested to Draco.

"Yeah, in the next century maybe," Potter laughed.

Draco smiled amusedly at him, and once again he noticed how Potter seemed to stop for fraction of a second every time Draco smiled at him. Potter turned quickly towards Weasley to start a conversation about the Chudley Cannons, better known as Fuddley Duds. Draco was just about to join in and enlighten them on the reality of the team's chances, when Hermione pushed him a soft package wrapped in brown paper.

"What's this?"

"Shush, just put these on and meet me at eight by the front door," Hermione murmured to him.

"What?"

"Eight o'clock, front door, do not breathe a word to those two, or we're dead. Got it?"

"I guess."

"Good."

* * *

Hermione had a wicked sense of style Draco had to admit. The simple black trousers, the black shirt and accenting white cotton jacket screamed "hot, hot, hot," if you ignored the loud "Muggle, Muggle". Draco was very impressed with the picture the black shirt licking his toned muscles and framed by the loose white cloth made.

But if you added it all up, the most probable answer was date. And as friendly as he was with Hermione, he wasn't feeling that close to her and there was the "not allowed to leave the house without permission" which kind of complicated the situation.

And though his brains were in constant red alert, Draco wanted to know what this was about.

Fighting his immense curiosity he backed up on his new divan and praised the room with his gaze. He wasn't quite satisfied, the old furniture were still there, keeping the feel of a child's room present, but the bed and the desk were too fine to be transfigured and they belonged to the room in some strange fundamental way, so that he hadn't had the heart to move them into storage. And Cassiopeia had screamed her head off when he had tried to get rid of them. As blonde as the painting was, she was more company than the hostile Order.

He had had to compromise moving the bed into one corner and arranging the closets and desk in a better way, and only changing the fungus infested walls and ceiling into white, pure wood and adding an large mirror to one wall and a elegant black divan in the middle of the room. But one day, he promised to himself, he would get his dream bedroom, with the magical frescos and the large balcony, so that the bedroom was half outside itself and a glorious, monumental bed, white silk covers streaming across it and mountains of pillows and a handsome, adoring lover with ebony hair to…

That thought was not be encouraged.

So taking a deep breath and one final glance at his hair, he slipped through the door and moved down the stairs as quietly as possible. He thought he saw someone peering down from upstairs, but he ignored it, as no one questioned him. Draco knew he had a streak of paranoia in him, and had learned to not trust any vague feelings, due to some embarrassing incidents with empty corridors, paintings, echoes and such.

Hermione was waiting for him, by the door and she motioned him to hurry, as she opened the complicated locks and bolts of the door with practised ease. The door was open when Draco came to it and Hermione pushed him out without further ado.

"Well, good evening to you too, you look lovely and so on," Draco shot at her as she closed the door. She did look lovely in denim trousers, high heels and the half-long beige jacket. Her hair was up in a loose, elegant bun, leaving some curls to frame her face.

"Sorry, Draco. I'm not very keen to be caught, there'd be such a circus if anyone found out I'm sneaking you of for a club." She pulled her wand out and pointed it at her face. Sparkly gloss painted itself on the lips, another swish and her eyelashes were long and curved. "I told Molly I went to see my parents."

"I gather that you got a permission from Sensei."

"Yes, she thought an outing could do you good.

"This club, it's that disco thing you talked about earlier isn't it?"

"It is."

"You seriously think you'll be able to drag me into some Muggle dance club?"

"Be quiet Draco and follow me."

* * *

"I think you are enjoying yourself, Draco."

"I think you have an unhealthy habit of imagining things, Hermione," Draco sneered at her and sipped his drink.

"Your leg says different." Draco forced his leg to stop tapping along with the beat.

"Well, the music is… entertaining."

"Muggles are way ahead of us in music. Maybe it's because we don't have that much variety in musicians or that we concentrate so much in magic, but Celestina Warbeck and the Weird Sisters aren't exactly the greatest pride of wizarding kind. And, Muggles are light years, just a Muggle saying, ahead of us in dancing. You want to try, Draco?"

Draco looked at mass of people writhing to the beat among themselves. It did seem… interesting.

"It's not very hard." Draco glanced at Hermione sharply.

"There is no way a Muggle can dance better than a Malfoy."

"Well, let's see, shall we?" Hermione laughed as she took a firm hold of Draco's hand and dragged him to the dance floor. Making their way deeper, Draco felt the pulse of the music and as if his body was born to do this, it started twitch and sway in the same manner as the Muggles' he was among.

"Very good, Master Malfoy," Hermione yelled over the din, "Move your hips now!" Draco did as he was told and he lost himself in the movement, in the pulse and in the deep harmony that came from the throng of dancing people.

It was so easy, a step back and a move with his hand, the sway of his spine and a lift of his knee. He revelled in the appreciating glances that began to rain upon him and he ran his hands down his body to the delight of girls dressed in cleavage revealing, glimmering tops. The song switched, and hands rose up and squeal was given by the dancers.

"What's that?" Draco hollered at Hermione.

"It's a popular song, U2's Discothéque!"

The nearly unearthly music started beating through the crowd and Draco suddenly found himself in a connection to the Flow, flooding through the room. Draco could not remember when he had felt this alive before. Fighting with Potter was like this, only this didn't have the negative sting flavouring it. A girl with a strange, slick, fire red suit challenged him by sliding down his side and Draco was never one to miss a challenge, another girl with bright pink lips bumped against him and he returned the smile, a high heeled miniskirt caught up with his hips, a man with a tight, white top danced at him and Draco danced back, and the beat and the heat and the Flow brought him a relaxation he had not known…

Hermione was suddenly there, leading him out of the dance. Hermione offered him a drink and smiled at him with a knowing smile.

"What?"

"I always did wonder if you swung in that direction."

"What ever do you mean, Granger?"

"That hunk of a man was hot indeed, and very, very gay."

"What, I'm not allowed to have a little fun?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything, Draco."

"Look, Granger, I have had loads of experience with witches…"

"Don't get testy on me, now, it's not as if it's a bad thing."

"I even had a crush on you!"

"That explains things," she only smiled, "but it doesn't rule out the gay factor."

"You aren't surprised."

"Please, Draco, you were quite persistent with your bullying, and I have always prided myself with my knowledge in psychology."

Draco sulked into his hands.

"And that grudge you have for Harry has also been quite interesting."

"Hermione, if you tell anyone…!"

"Draco, I'm a Gryffindor remember."

"That didn't stop that cow Brown or that twin what's-her-name."

"Don't fret, Draco," Hermione beamed at him, "I'll keep it strictly between us."


	10. Chapter 9 Fear

**I did get this finished! Finally! It just haunted me until I got it ready, so well, here you are. Any questions, answered in iFAQ, second one at the bottom! yay!  
**

** Summer is coming which means I'm turning into a much nicer person. You might even be able to comment without your head bitten off :OOO  
**

**9. Fear **

**Where nightmares and insecurities are found and faced off**

"Malfoy!"

Draco turned around to find Weasley standing behind him with a fierce scowl.

"Why, good morning, Weasley, I didn't know you were able to get yourself out of bed this early in the morning."

"Where did you go yesterday with Hermione?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"In all those fancy clothes! With Hermione, the pretty girl who talks to you without any common sense!"

"Aren't you delivering those compliments to the wrong person?" Draco enjoyed annoying Weasley even more than annoying Potter; the redhead was so easy to bait.

"Look, I know what you're trying to do, you deceiving little ferret, and you can be sure that I'll let anyone know if you try anything funny!"

"And you are telling this to me instead of them, because...?"

"You think you're so clever, winding the others around your poor, hurt little finger, but I know better. And keep away from Hermione, she is…"

"Weasley, I really don't care about your shallow love story, which you are screwing up quite spectacularly." Weasley spluttered at Draco's sniping. "Now if you will excuse me, I do not wish to be late," Draco ended and marched off haughtily.

He was lucky; he entered the training room just on time, Sensei only sporting a shadow of a frown, which was easily appeased by apology. The morning practises commenced and Draco revelled in the peace he gained from them. He felt as if he was a cat stroked in the wrong direction and now being soothed by a gentle caress.

_:I would not call you a cat. _Potter piped in, amused.

_:Bugger off, Potter and let me concentrate in the exercise._

"Quite light, Potter-san, let the White Clane Splead Its Wings," Sensei snapped and Draco was allowed to stay in that quiet state for a blissful while.

"It is clear," said the Sensei, when they had finished, "that you are ploglessing vely well with your bonding. You can catch Malfoy-san's thoughts that he has not plojected, Potter-san?"

"Yes, occasionally."

"Have you succeeded in this, Malfoy-san?"

"Not yet," Draco scowled at Potter.

"You will soon, Malfoy-san, do not wolly. The next exercise will be diffelent flom the plepalotory ones you have been doing for the past thlee days, as these will include martial arts." Draco was immediately interested. The Sensei had been prohibiting them from fighting each other up till now.

"Now, let yourself sink into the meditative state, especially concentlating on all your sulloundings. Keep your eyes open, but do not focus on any particular point. Note the loom, the shapes of it and the space in which you could move. Now focus on the body sitting next to you."

It was so effortless. The shape of Potter sitting, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as air moved inside him and was pushed out again. The quiet beat of his heart and thrum of his blood and the way he moved his head ever so slightly. The way his right hand fingers rose, Seeker reflexes, and then when Sensei told them to rise, the push of the floor, almost clumsy and the loose, arrogant way he stood that irritated Draco, why was he arrogant, he was always in mortal danger, even now, every beat of his eyelid. And yet the boy stood in that arrogant manner and Draco's insides boiled and recoiled and snapped and Draco's arms flew forward before he knew it.

Potter seemed to have known, sidestepping lightly and letting his leg swing at Draco, but Draco had known that even before it happened and Draco lifted off with a flex of his legs and Potter was there again and Draco caught his shoulders to lift himself into the air, but Potter did not miss a beat, moved away when Draco reached ground and swung at him. And another move and recoil, a counter and an avoidance, leg, an arm, a finger, an eye, a thought, a dance and Draco knew not if the punch thrown was by his own hand or not and the moment stretched itself luxuriantly between them. The air condensed, filling their lungs with heavy breaths, and sparks danced on their skin and every space between them was too much and every breath should have been a shared one and Draco tried to close his eyes, but fingertips reached out to stop him and he was faced by a pair of blazing green.

"That will do, deshi."

The world rewound into existence suddenly, and Draco withdrew from Potter breathing heavily, eyeing the other with suspicion. Potter leant against his knees huffing. Draco was astonished; first time ever had they had a fight without pain. Draco found himself scared, which made no sense, because Draco was afraid of pain and not… nonpain. Pleasure.

"Very good, Malfoy-san, Potter-san. As you notice, you cannot hurt each other anymore; you know each other's movement too well for that. That tlance is called …"

But, Sensei was wrong, Draco realized. This was the fear of pain, Draco had lived his whole life hand in hand with it. Only this time it was larger than ever, turning the world crystal with adrenaline and Potter had a power to smash the world into sharp, shining shards.

* * *

Days went by and it wasn't until Wednesday that Draco was challenged about his avoidance of Potter any time else than the charged lessons.

"Draco, what's happened between you and Harry?"

"What do you mean?"

"Running out of the room whenever Harry walks in, sitting as far away from him as possible, really, Draco, you're supposed to come closer with him during this training."

Draco tried mumbling something, but Hermione was one persistent hound.

"Is something wrong? I mean, did you fight, because Harry isn't that keen on being closer to you either and…"

"Hermione, are you together with Weasley?" Draco fired without any tact, but it was worth it when Hermione flushed a red to be envied by the Prince Charming in question.

"Well, uh."

"Because he is awfully protective about you, came storming at me the morning after we went to the disco."

"What? Did he see us?!"

"Apparently."

"Mourning Merlin! He hasn't said anything to me, which means he's in a serious mood about this too. He has been a little cold, but I was so busy with the research and I thought he was planning the attack…"

"Slow down, girl."

Hermione slumped into an armchair with a exasperated groan. "Me and Ron, well, we've known each other's feelings since after that idiot Lavender Brown affair. Or you could say Ron finally got hit in the face by them, it's been quite apparent forever…"

"There's been a popular bet in the Slytherin dorms since the Yule Ball on how long it would take until Weasel would get the courage to ask you out," Draco laughed.

"Exactly. But he hasn't yet. Not in the most real "Would you like to go out with me, Hermione?" way," Hermione pouted.

"Has he managed to snog you yet?" Draco asked trying to keep the obvious glee out of his voice.

"Oh, yes, whenever we find ourselves alone."

"Hmm. Look, Hermione, I know all the etiquette better than anyone, but I seriously think this is a position in which you should ignore it and just get him. Other option is to have a massive row about it."

"We're good at that," Hermione told him and glanced at the antique clock, "Oh no, you're going to be late!"

"What? Oh, hell, Sensei'll have my skin as her doormat!"

Draco rushed into the Training Room, forcing his body almost fly with the help of magic.

"It is good to see you find use for our tlaining, Malfoy-san," the Sensei said dryly as Draco gasped his apologies.

"As I was telling Potter-san, we will learn the art of Patlonus this aftelnoon." Draco gulped. "Potter-san has informed me that he knows the charm, which will simplify things. Are we so lucky that you, Malfoy-san, also have this skill?"

Of course Draco knew the Patronus charm. He had been practising it fiercely ever since Potter had achieved a corporeal Patronus and succeeded in one only last year, with the increased danger of Dementors. The only thing was that he was not happy about showing it to anyone, least of all Potter.

"Well, err, yes, actually, I am capable of producing a Patronus."

"Splendid! The Oliental version will lequire some thought flom both of you, as the Western Magic cuts many corners by not forming the corpoleality itself, only forcing it to exist by pure power. The basics are similar of course. We shall start flom the meditative state, it will be easier to concentlate."

Draco pushed his feelings of insecurity away and slowed down his breathing. It would not do to anger the Sensei again; he had been lucky that she hadn't given her extra workout already.

"Now bling yourself into the emotional state lequired."

Draco searched for the good memories. He found the selection sad and scarce. The ones he had used previously were childhood memories always including his mother, others were daydreams of him beating Potter, and neither were very inviting. He dug deeper, and came up with nothing better. Frustrated, he began to cast around randomly, and bumped into the present day. He was happier, he realized, than ever before, even with everything gone wrong. He had someone he could call a friend in the Gryffindor sense, he found peace in the training and pleasure in decorating and that night at the Muggle disco had been one of his best.

He locked onto the memory just on time, as the Sensei started the instruction on forming corporeality. It wasn't that hard, especially since he knew what his Patronus looked like. On the word he released the energy and opened his eyes.

There, before his eyes, was his Patronus. It opened its small mouth and gnashed its teeth, scampering away. Compared to Potter's magnificent stag, which pranced majestically, it looked small and weak and ridiculous.

"Malfoy, that's a dragon!"

"A hatchling, Potter."

The silver dragon in question tried to nip at the passing hart's heels and fell over disgracefully.

"But it's a dragon!"

"Yes, and your Patronus is twenty times larger than mine!"

Potter gawked at the winged lizard as if he had never seen a dragon before. As it flapped it's wings in frustration at the hart, which danced circles around it, Draco remembered the conclusion his father had become to.

_Your mother and I,_ he had written, _are very proud of your achievement. It represents how you feel grateful of our legacy, and how you feel protected by us. I am in no doubt the beast shall reach its maturity quite soon._

He had always adored his father's letters. Always so loving and congratulating and warm, weren't they?

"Sensei, is there a chance that Malfoy's Patronus can grow?"

"Oh yes, it isn't that rare that young wizards first ploduce a juvenile version of the animal their Patlonus takes form of. They eventually become fullglown, after the person in question has solved a emotional ploblem or leached some kind of milestone in their life."

Potter was over-enthusiastic about Draco's Patronus. He kept gushing about it in the most annoying way and when he began talking about it at dinner, Draco was sick and tired about his Patronus. Potter, however, was not stopped by Draco's coldness and nagged him until he had to produce the Patronus on the dinnertable.

"Isn't it a darling!" Hermione sighed at the small creature stumbling over the table. "Do you know which breed it is, Draco?"

"Looks weak to me," Weasley grumbled and shot a malicious glance at Draco, who was telling Hermione that it had all the characteristics of a Welsh Green.

"Imagine how big it will be when it's full-grown!" Potter said excitedly.

"Not that big if it's a Welsh Green, Charlie told me they rarely go over three tons," Weasley told him, keeping a narrowed eye at Hermione who had called upon her own Patronus, which was now hurdling towards the baby dragon in hope of a game.

"It would certainly give Dementors some fright!"

"What's wrong with you, Harry? Fawning over the Ferret's Patronus as if it were the greatest thing in existence!" Weasley exploded at his friend.

"What's wrong with YOU!?" Potter yelled back. Draco had never seen Potter this furious. Magic was practically crackling through out the room and Draco was sure the Flow was being twisted into ribbons. "Malfoy here has been on perfectly good behaviour for two months! He has actually become friendly! And you still keep going at him! After all he's been through! You should be ashamed yourself!" Draco winced. So now he was Potter's pity case. Fantastic.

"Oh yeah? What about last Friday when he snuck out with Hermione in fancy clothes?" Weasley had guts, Draco admitted as he shrank down by the pressure of Potter's enraged magic.

"What about it? Hermione explained it to me and Sensei approved it and Malfoy needs fresh air too!" One of the glasses cracked. "And it is not Malfoy's fault that Hermione likes to be with him, you should blame yourself for not asking Hermione out."

"Does Potter do this often?" Draco whispered to Hermione who was picking at her chicken.

"When he gets really frustrated, yes," Hermione told him calmly, "Harry's never had any anger management skills at all."

"And people haven't died?" Draco squeaked as a pot started rattling ominously.

"Er, no, it's not as if… Great Merlin!" This was a reaction to the fact that the whole room began to rattle and move. "He has to calm down. Harry! Harry! Ron!"

The basement was empty except for them, as the whole Order was somewhere doing something important. Even Molly wasn't there, and Draco quickly calculated the time in which the Sensei could be got into the kitchen.

"Draco! Can't you restrain him or something?" Hermione snapped at him.

Oh, that was an option too. Draco turned quickly to Potter who was still screaming red at Weasley.

"Potter, this is quite too much, thank you for standing up for me and so on, but…" did not have any effect. Draco gathered himself and tried to sink to a meditative state so he could talk into Potter's mind. The Flow was indeed writhing in the unhealthiest way around Potter's vortex and Draco found he couldn't reach Potter by magic. That only left one option and Draco hated putting himself in front of the firing line.

Breathing deeply in he flew a fist at Potter's head. Surprisingly it made contact, but Potter managed to give into it so he wasn't even bruised. Whipping around, he snarled and kicked high at Draco's chest. Draco was ready for it and slipped under the spinning leg, trying to trip him, but Potter knew it and he grabbed at Draco's neck. Draco had already rolled away from him and a foot moved into stop him and Draco caught it and pushed Potter away. The pace was faster than before, and Potter was clearly not thinking straight. Draco prodded at Potter's thoughts and they were there, without any protection, boiling and toiling in a confused mess.

Anger filtered through it at whole, and Draco wondered at that, because he could not see the reasons for it. Probing deeper he found himself. There was not any pity, as Draco had feared. Neither was there any hate or disgust or anything that there should have been.

Draco blinked in astonished shock and drew away, only narrowly preventing Potter from throwing him over. The shock was not the only reaction Draco had. A flame sparked inside Draco, warming him throughout. Draco did not like the idea at all. His house had always been cold.

_:Potter! Get a bloody hold of yourself!_

_:Shut up, Malfoy._

_:If you stop wrecking the kitchen up!_

Potter blinked and stopped flailing at Draco.

"Oh."

"That's all you have to say about it?" Draco snapped at him. The mess wasn't that bad, a few glasses had broken and a spindly chair had broken as the result of Potter kicking at it when he missed Draco.

"And you better fix the cocoa pot!" Draco snarled, and pointed at jar that had a big crack in its side, spilling brown powder out of it. He then turned on his heels and marched out.

* * *

"Tonight, we go for a fieldtlip," Sensei announced one morning a few days after the kitchen incident. Draco was still angry at Sensei, who had calmly told them the next day that she had been perfectly aware of the upheaval, but found that Draco had taken care of it so well that she hadn't needed to bother come down. Draco was a little appeased by the thorough scolding Potter had received.

"Where to?" Potter asked.

"We are going Dementor hunting."

"What?"

"Dementor hunting. It shall be good plactise."

Draco could feel Potter swallowing the question "Are you mad?" and the Sensei eagerly prattled on about the positive attributes practising with Dementors gave. Draco was more interested in how they were going to prevent bumping into any Death Eaters.

* * *

Draco was feeling very jumpy as they Apparated into some forsaken meadow outside London. The field was flooded with silver mist and Draco tried to mislead his mind into comparing the mist's dreamy swirling to the bending of the Flow. There was a fascinating similarity and yet some very baffling inconsistencies.

_If I ever manage to be free again, I will devote my life to the study of the Flow and it's effect on the physical world,_ he vowed to himself.

_:You would be bored to death._

_:You should worry about Dementors, Potter, instead of my thoughts. This place stinks of them._

_:Maybe I prefer not to think about them for as long as I can._

The Sensei shushed them, and closed her eyes in concentration. A faint happy feeling surrounded them.

"What was that?" Draco asked.

"A diluted Patlonus charm, very useful for catching the attention of Dementors, as they are drawn to positive feelings and yet it is not too thleatening."

_And only a nutter wants to do that,_ Draco caught from Potter.

_:Still afraid to death of them? _

_:Always._

"While we wait, let us do a warming exercise." Sensei misinterpreted Potter violent shudder. "Calm your mind and enter a tlance. Let the Flow circulate into you, and let it warm you up."

Draco obliged and felt blessed warmth circulate into him. Even his fingers that could not be warmed by charmed mittens warmed up. Oh, if he would have known this magic in the freezing dungeons of Hogwarts.

"Now do it without the tlance," the Sensei directed.

On the eighth repetition the warmth did not warm up Draco's fingers. Before he had time to think that he had done something wrong, Potter drew a sharp breath. Dementors. Draco's blood froze and Potter's body was generating illegal amounts of adrenaline.

_:Don't wet yourself now, Potter._

Potter had time to throw him a dirty look amidst his search for the Dark Creatures.

Draco was first to spot one, gliding towards them behind Potter's back. With warning from Draco, Potter spun around and grabbed for his wand.

"Potter-san! You do not need to use your wand!"

Fighting the depression that seeped from the foul thing, Draco summoned his hatchling, which loyally scrambled to attack the towering figure.

"Potter! I could use a hand here!" he snapped at the other boy.

"I'm trying, you prick," Potter grinded through his teeth and soon the majestic hart cantered out to fend off the Dementor.

"There are more coming!" Draco called and directed his Patronus at a group that was trying to close in by a blind spot.

"Denshi, I lecommend you communicate by ishindenshin, it is much more effective," the Sensei guided them serenely.

_: I really think it would be much nicer if she offered more effort than talk! _Potter told Draco and guided the silver stag at a new group. _They're flocking around too fast for my taste!_

_:Scared of a few scarecrows, Potter?_

_:As if you're not. Watch your left!_

Draco admitted that there was a sense of children crowding to a sweet shop with special sales. If children would be cloaked in dingy black sheets and groping for happiness with rotting claws.

"Sensei! The bait spell isn't up anymore is it?"

"No, Malfoy-san. It only seems that there were quite many Dementors in the hundled mile radius."

Potters groan was championship qualified, came a thought out of nowhere as cold sweat began to run down his spine.

"Sensei, you do know that Dementor numbers have grown explosively in Britain since the return of the Dark Lord?"

"Of course. Keep your focus, Malfoy-san! Your patlonus seems to be fading."

Sure enough the hatchling gave one last hiss at a Dementor and vanished. Draco gulped and attempted round up his courage, but all his brain could offer him was "Your mother is dead and your father is in prison and the Dark Lord wants you dead and all your friends are all thumbs at the prospect. You're stuck with the Order of the Phoenix and your worst enemy Harry Potter, and it is all doomed. And Muggles will kill all the wizards and everyone will die and there would be no blue skies to fly, because you have failed the cause and betrayed your master and the world of magic…!"

A scream interrupted the stampede of his thoughts. And though Potter was on his knees, it could not have been him; the scream was a woman's. Sensei was tight-lipped and her eyes were fixed on a silver tiger driving off a lake of black.

"Not Harry! Please… have mercy…have mercy…" a sob was heard. And then the cold, cold laughter of the Dark Lord. He was here! Draco whipped around waiting to see red eyes burning from under the black hoods. The screaming began again, a bloodcurdling duet with the demonic laughter.

With the green flash Draco suddenly understood. Potter was hearing the murder of his parents with such strength that they leaked into Draco's mind too. Potter's hands were squeezed over his lightning scar. He would faint any minute now from the emotional distress.

A new wave of laughter from memories seeped in, this time marked with Potter's panic.

Something changed. Not anything you could actually notice, but Draco was sure of it. Things were changed.

Turning to the black tidal wave yearning for Potter's soul, he opened his arms and let the magic out. The silver dragon burst amongst the Dementors with fervour, spouting flames and flailing it's limbs, rising upon it's wings when the dark mass turned to flee.

When they were gone, it returned and took one deep look into the equally silver eyes of it's master gazing up at it and then melted into the mist of the meadow.

* * *

_Harry woke up with screams throbbing in the back of his head and green flashes dancing a death dance across his eyelids. Knowing it was hopeless trying to get back to sleep, he slid out of his beds smiling at Ron's snore and slipped out of the door._

_Harry was good at nightly wandering and nowadays his legs knew how to walk away by themselves, leaving the mind to calm down from the death moments of his parents. _

_The near silent pad of his foods against the old, smooth floorboards chased the screams away and gradually his muscles let go of the bones they were trying to shutter._

_Cursing Dementors, he let the images sink away from his eyes. Another image rose to replace it, a picture of an enormous silver dragon towering over a sea of swirling black, roaring silently and sending a dreamy fire amongst the terror. A silhouette of angles and straight edges against the silver storm forming a shadow of extreme elegance, cut out of the light by some secret artist. A sudden flame of white, when hair caught the light, a golden trace of nonexistent fire._

_Malfoys hair wasn't actually silver. It was more of a white gold; a golden gleam hiding in the pure white._

"_Whozzair?"_

"_Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't notice, I just had a bad dream and wandered, and…" Harry notied too late that his feet had taken him into Malfoys room._

"_Shuddup, sleep."_

"_Oh, yes, sorry, I'll be going…"_

"_Shu'up, Po'er, ge'in 'n' sleep!"_

"_What?"_

_Malfoy mumbled something into his pillow, rolled against the wall and lifted the edge of the blankets._

"_Shut up. Get in. Sleep. Shut up."_

_Harry shuffled around awkwardly; he couldn't sleep beside Malfoy…_

"_Now!" And Harry found himself in Malfoys bed. _

_Malfoy was already fast asleep, his quiet breathing slowing down into an impossibly slow rate, a long pause between every inhalation. _

_Harry was stiff as dead, shocked to find himself in someone else's bed, on top of that a boy's, above all Malfoy's bed. He had never, ever slept in the same bed with anyone, not since a time that is impossible to remember. And now he was lying next to Malfoy. _

_But before he was able to panic, his weary body sunk into Malfoy's mattress that was much softer than Harry's. The soft breathing behind him calmed him down swiftly and soon Harry felt a last thought before slumber, bound to be forgotten from its very birth. _

_It's not bad, sleeping next to Malfoy._

* * *

iFAQ

Q. What was the word Sensei thought when she was mentally conversing with Draco?

Answ. tsundere (1) being on the surface sharp and sarcastic (tsuntsun) but underneath lovestruck and fawning (deredere)(2) normally being sharp but at some prompt suddenly becoming lovestruck hot-cold personality type

Q. Where did you get that white jacket black trousers stuff for Draco?

Answ. See the backstreet boys first album cover. Ik. It's –97 fashion, don't accuse me.

Q: What do you do when you don't know what to write or get stuck or have a problem with the fic or--?

Answ.Ask the Bible of course! D'uh! No really, I open the Bible, poke my finger and see what it says. The problem is that the answers are never clear and I don't have any idea what eg. "Jacob had seven brothers" has to do with shall I get Draco kiss Harry now or in a few chapters. But God has the answers, and all that jazz, so there must be some sense in it!

Q. What is Sensei talking about when she says "let the White Clane Splead Its Wings"?

Answ. One Tai chi form is called White Crane Spreads Its Wings. If you really are interested further, don't ask me, go ask Wikipedia.

Q. Ch. 9: scene 2 Days went by, and it wasn't until Wednesday... maybe it's just me, but how long has it been, then, if it's Wed now?

Answ. It has been since Saturday. And that is days, isn't it?

Q. Isn't Harry a little OOC when he gushes about Draco's Patronus?

Answ. If he actually had been as adamant as described, I would say more than little. This is however one of the points where Draco's POV takes artistic allowances.

Q. But WHY a Welsh Green? isn't that a little too common?

Answ. Racked my brain with this I did. The problem was, a) Draco had to have something to do with drgons and his Animagus wasn't one, so his Patronus had to be b) that it preferably should be something domestic, because there is no way Draco could have anything to with Norway, or even Hungary. Then I came up with points c) that how many people actually even have a dragon for a Patronus, so he is elitist with that and after all d) Draco is a rather common elitist. So Welsh Green. If you find any flaws, come tell me I'm wrong.


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